A Slip of the Tongue
by Armadilloi
Summary: My original Chuck piece.  Charah with minimal fluff and adult situations and challenges. Short chapters.  Not a lot of pile-of-puppies moments but they are there.  If you're looking for canon - go find a monument. OM's next chapter is up.
1. Chapter 1

I found my old external hard drive and was clearing out the trash when I found this. It predates MOAH and was my first Chuck fiction piece but I got off on a - for me - project and forgot about it. It's done although depending on YOUR responses, it might not have the original ending. Then again, it might end up in the trash after all.

Chuck is still Chuck, Beckman's still a witch, Graham's Graham and Sarah's the cold and indifferent agent dedicated to her craft and her image. She's a flake in the beginning and a whole bowl of cereal by the end.

Disgustingly Charah although not at first blush. OFCs come and go but she remains constant.

Enjoy it. I promise to finish the others. These will be all short chapters since I fired my editor so those of you with limited attention spans won't suffer through too much verbiage.

APR

* * *

Prologue

He looked up at the concrete ceiling. It didn't look back. He tried to get comfortable but it was hard to do. He wasn't afraid anymore. He almost sighed with relief when he sensed that the long night was finally ending. It didn't matter one bit that when the sun rose he wouldn't see it. It would still rise and warm the earth and those he loved. They'd made it out. Now it was only a matter of time.

If he'd known 2 1/2 years earlier that he would his end lying in a growing pool of blood in a subway tunnel, he just might have taken the bunker option. But then he'd never have married - twice - and missed loving and being loved by the most incredible woman in the world.

He owed it all to CIA Agent Sarah Walker and her slip of the tongue.

A Slip of the Tongue - Chapter 1

"And so, Mr. Bartowski, since the cat's out of the bag so to speak, you have a choice – the bunker or relocation. I've explained what both options entail, so make your choice. Time is short. You'll either be in a high security facility or in transit to your new home in a few hours."

He glanced over at his 'team mates' for some indication of support or anything other than being completely ignored and was not surprised to see Agent Walker examining her cuticles and Major Casey staring straight ahead like a cadet at West Point.

"I guess I'll take relocation, General, since it's the least restrictive. What about my sister? My friends?"

"You died tonight, Mr. Bartowski. A Fulcrum agent shot you dead after learning about the intersect, although we'll cover it as a botched carjacking and your remains burned to cinders."

Chuck panicked for a moment – Ellie would think he was dead – and then calmed down as the implications dawned on him. She would be safe and no one would ever be able to use her as leverage.

"It isn't your fault that your cover was blown but it is your responsibility to live with the outcome. We need what's in your head until it can be duplicated in another intersect and placed in a competent agent. We'll entertain your future at that point. It's a great sacrifice for you personally, but you're not alone in giving up your old life."

"For how long?" He had to have something to hang on to, some thread of hope, no matter how small, that someday he could be 'Chuck Bartowski' again.

"Mr. Bartowski, I honestly wish I could answer that question. Now, you have a plane to catch and you need to learn your legend and become comfortable with your cover. There won't be another option other than a secure facility if you can't adapt or if you cover fails and you're exposed. There will be times when we'll call on you for assistance. Be well, Mr. Bartowski, and be careful."

The screen in the entertainment center at the BuyMore darkened and Casey brought up the lights and stood up.

"Well, Bartowski, this is where we part company. You reached the only decision you could have under the circumstances. I hope you make it, Chuck." He glared at the silent form of Sarah Walker, CIA, who was still studying her nails, then turned on his heel and left for other duties. Chuck wouldn't see 'John Casey' again.

"OK, Bartowski, we have a plane to catch. Here are your briefing papers, your new identity and," she handed him a thick manila envelope, "the usual credit cards, your wedding ring and a new cell phone."

"_We_? Wedding ring?" He looked shocked and uncertain. He looked at his handler but she wouldn't meet his eyes.

"What aren't you telling me, Agent Walker?" He regretted his tone but he wanted answers. His initial attraction to her had gradually changed into a grudging acceptance of her in his life. There never could be anything between them. Bryce was back and apparently rehabilitated. He and Sarah were 'a couple' even though their Agency duties kept them apart except for brief liaisons.

She looked at him for the first time since the briefing and her eyes met his and then slid away.

"My assignment is to accompany you into relocation as your wife, to continue on as... We're a married couple and we'll assume lives and careers that have been carefully selected for us. We have to catch a plane. We don't have time for this now. We can talk on the plane after you've read your briefing package."

"Your _assignment? _You mean your punishment, don't you, Agent Walker? They're punishing you for blowing my cover, aren't they? It wasn't your fault. It was just bad luck, that's all. Get Beckman back and I'll explain it to her. I'll – I'll take the bunker. This is so wrong…"

He choked on his words, unable to believe the cruelty inherent in the intelligence business.

"The decision's been made and we have a plane to catch. You need to have your legend and identity down pat as soon as possible. Now, let's go. We're wasting time we don't have. Fulcrum could have reorganized their local forces and be coming for you."

In Flight

She had put her seat back and was asleep. He studied her profile. In the four months since Sarah Walker had been dropped into his life he'd learned little if anything about the amazing woman who protected him and that bothered him. He liked to know the people in his life and Sarah Walker simply kept him at arm's length on anything that wasn't related to the damned intersect and their cover.

He knew that her old partner was Bryce Larkin. They had been together for years until he went rogue and sent him the intersect email. She wasn't totally trusted by her bosses because of that. This was her chance to regain that trust, and get back into the Big Show. Casey had been in Burbank more to keep an eye on her than to monitor Chuck.

Chuck wasn't stupid or socially challenged or naive. When Sarah Walker returned to the Big Show, she'd do it after killing him or turning him over to an extraction team. He wasn't paranoid, just realistic – more so than either of his handlers could even begin to suspect.

He opened his manila envelope and took out the contents and organized them on the tray table. He put on the wedding ring and wasn't a bit surprised that it fit comfortably on his finger. He examined the cell phone and checked the address book – of course, it was empty. Charles Carmichael was only one day old, hardly old enough to have friends.

He memorized his legend and his cover. They were having marital problems after three years of marriage and that would account for absences when Walker went on special missions or finally requested reassignment. Theirs would be a rocky marriage with frequent separations and finally, if necessary, a divorce. He was shocked to find a copy of a marriage license in the name of Charles Carmichael and Sarah Walker. _It couldn't be real, could it?_

He was a high school science teacher and his wife was a physiotherapist who was hoping to open her own practice. They'd changed his birthday and added a year to his age.

He repacked his envelope and raised the tray table and put his seat back and tried to sleep.

Sarah Walker wasn't sleeping. She was observing the asset and how he was adapting to his new situation.

Sarah had allowed his identity to be compromised and now she had new orders, a new identity and a husband. She knew it was for the cover but she never figured Graham would actually marry them for the cover. Even if it was just on paper, it was still a legal marriage. Bryce would not be happy. She was not happy. She didn't care if Bartowski was happy or not, it was a done deal - Graham's way of saying 'You fucked up, Agent, and this is your penance.'

She'd been surprised and a little ashamed when he realized what 'sacrifice' she was making when he chose relocation and then demanded that she contact Beckman and tell her he'd take the bunker. It was never an option, he was too valuable to be put under and forgotten. She just couldn't tell him that.

'_I'll give it a few months and see how things progress. If he can keep his damned mouth shut and accept his situation, I can ask for reassignment – and a divorce – and rejoin Bryce and get on with our lives. Graham has already hinted that 2.0 will soon be operational and then he'd have an accident and his despondent widow would return 'back East' to family and friends.'_

The part of her that had been ashamed at his demand to go to a bunker rather than have her 'punished' reared its head and flooded her with guilt that she quickly squelched. He was always going to killed, it was just a question of when. They needed him until…they didn't. Then he was surplus, excess, a security risk and therefore a danger that would be removed from the equation.

* * *

A/N: This is not a death fic but rather a celebration of life in the face of adversity.

Jim


	2. Chapter 2

Thank you all for the warm response. Yes, I have others to finish but I'm quite adept at multi-tasking. This one is short but I'm tired so maybe tomorrow's installment will be longer. Thanks again for the reviews.

Jim

* * *

A Slip of the Tongue – Chapter 2

Eden, Missouri  
Three months later

They'd had three months to settle into their roles and so far things were going…about as well as could be expected. Despite her 'friendliness' in Burbank, Sarah Carmichael nee Walker was playing the role of a wife trapped in a loveless and hopeless marriage very convincingly.

They shared a bed and each had become used to the other's presence. Chuck no longer blushed when he interrupted her bath or walked in on her when she was dressing and she had never shown anything but indifference to him, except when she had to deal with Director Graham or General Beckman. Then she got surly and sulked and made his life difficult afterwards.

"You know, don't you, that I will be called on to leave for extended periods of time, so to protect the cover, we have to make nice in public but still give the impression that things are not as good as we want them to appear. Can you do that, Bartowski?"

"Carmichael. Bartowski's dead. Won't be hard, Agent. Just don't go overboard with the PDAs. And the next time Larkin wants a booty call, let me know well in advance so I can make other arrangements. You should plan these things and write them on the calendar. We do have a cover to maintain and I need to be elsewhere when you go into heat."

"You bastard! If it wasn't for you, we'd still be in civilization and I wouldn't have to be in this stupid hick town pretending to be a wife to someone I can't stand! _This is all your fault!_"

"Agent Walker, do you really believe that I told Fulcrum that I was the intersect host just to fuck up your perfect little life? I seem to remember _your_ big mouth letting those turncoats know just who and what I was? I thought you were the Queen of the CIA. Did you skip class on the day they taught how not to out your asset to the opposition?"

Her face turned red and then she started throwing things and Chuck just left her alone with her mood and went out to the garage to work on his baby. It took him a while but he finally figured out that Sarah Walker in Burbank was just playing a role to keep him controlled. Out here in flyover country there was no need. She was now a 'minder' rather than a handler and it pissed her off to be away from the bright lights and exotic places and her rehabilitated boyfriend, Larkin.

She'd disappear some weekends, be gone when he got back from school on Friday and show up smirking either late Sunday evening or Monday morning. If they were 'missions' it was odd they only occurred on weekends.

One week later

It was the last day of in-service week and Chuck sat in the principal's office waiting for Dr. Moran to get off the phone and acknowledge his presence. She was about his age, maybe a year older, and was every high school boy's wet dream. She was curvy in all the right places and was probably one of the most naturally beautiful women Chuck had ever seen.

"I'm sorry to be rude, Mr. Carmichael, but I need you to understand that I resent your presence here. If the government wasn't paying your salary I'd have a qualified teacher to handle the general science, physics and chemistry classes. Instead I have some fugitive from the mob hiding out in my school. Do you even know anything about science?"

"I attended Stanford for 4 years and majored in Engineering with a GPA of 3.88; physics and chemistry were required so yeah, I think I can handle general science and the rest. I won't let you down."

"You won't be letting me down, Mr. Carmichael, you'll be letting 240 students down. If you can't cut the mustard, you're out of here."

Chuck sighed and said, "I get that a lot but so far I've managed to surprise everyone." He stood up and walked back to his classroom trying to ignore the stares of the other teachers who probably heard the entire thing. _Something else to worry about._

* * *

Things didn't go any better when he got 'home'. Sarah was on the Bitch Wagon and this time it was the lack of variety in their menus. She didn't cook and he had no idea what she spent the day doing but it wasn't housework.

"Y'know, Bartowski, it wouldn't kill you to take me out to dinner at a decent restaurant for a change. I'm so sick of…take out and spaghetti that I could scream."

"It might kill me – _Bartowski _- if you popped off in public. Get dressed. We'll go out for dinner. I could use a drink. There's a restaurant near the interstate that looks pretty good. We'll go there. I don't think there are any clean dishes around here anyway. Would it kill you to load the dishwasher and turn it on? You do know how to do that simple, ordinary task, don't you Agent Walker?"

His 'companion and wife' was a bitch but the food was good and the booze was better. Neither of them said a word during dinner and each ordered drinks after the meal. The place was nice and there was a large dance floor and the band was just setting up. Chuck leaned back and got the waitress' attention and ordered them another round.

Sarah was two or three drinks ahead of Chuck but was ignoring him and eyeballing the guys at the bar. One in particular caught her eye and she maintained eye contact for a brief time but it was time enough.

When the band started playing, the guy walked over and asked Sarah to dance. Chuck knew the guy from around town. He worked at the radio station selling advertising and he was the local football hero who made it to the NFL but got hurt or something. Sarah didn't even acknowledge Chuck and just got up and hit the dance floor.

For the next hour Chuck watched Sarah dance with the ad guy. It was like watching soft porn. She rubbed herself against him and he gradually moved his hands from her waist to her ass and that was enough for Chuck. People here knew him, knew he was a teacher and God knew what they thought about his 'wife'.

He walked over and interrupted them and told Sarah it was time to go.

"You go. I'm having fun for the first time since Burbank. I finally met a man with something in his pants besides loose change and you want me to go home? What the hell for? Jus' leave me alone with Brad here. I'm sure I'll get home OK. You jus' call that NSA gen'ral and tell her I want out, OK?"

"Honey, my name's _Bob_. I'll see that you get home, sometime later. Fella, you just carry yourself out the door. I'll take care of the little lady's needs, don't you worry."

Something snapped in Chuck. He got mad. Really mad. They were supposed to be a married couple and she shouldn't have mentioned Burbank or 'the NSA gen'ral'. Christ, she was plowed!

Brad or Bob pushed Chuck away and replanted his hands on her ass. His next memory would be of someone putting ice on his face to take down the swelling. Chuck used a couple of things Casey taught him and put him down with a quick flurry of punches and a sweep kick.

He threw some bills on the table to cover the tab and gave the bartender $20 to call the guy a cab and then he threw a screeching drunk Sarah over his shoulder and walked out.

* * *

He couldn't sleep. How could the delightful young woman he'd been so attracted to in Burbank turn into such a shrew? It had to be his fault or at least partially his fault. This married cover wasn't working out at all.

Walker had seriously compromised their position with her drunken talk and Chuck knew he had to call the General and explain the situation. Walker would be out of Eden in hours and he'd be on his way to Elko or Moab or some other hole in the ground. He had no choice, really. The intersect had to be protected.

Chuck heard her moving around in the bedroom and then lurch down the hallway to the bathroom. She was sick.

Surprise, surprise. He followed her into the bathroom and knelt down beside her and pulled her hair away from her face while she threw up all the food and booze. When he was sure she was done, he got a cold, wet washcloth and cleaned her up and put her to bed.

He walked back to the kitchen and made a pot of coffee and stared at the laptop as if it could answer his questions and offer him advice but it was no help at all. It was time to face the music.

He sent an email requesting a video 'chat' and sat back and drank his coffee and waited. He finished the pot and still hadn't made a connection to the NSA. Frustrated with everything, he took a shower and went to bed after making another pot and setting the timer for 8am. Tomorrow, well, today, was Saturday.


	3. Chapter 3

Hey - decided to give y'all a double-dose. Review both - lol.

Jim

* * *

A Slip of the Tongue – Chapter 3

She woke up disoriented. She remembered dancing with some big guy – oh shit! '_Did I go home with him? Where's Bartowski? Oh, my head!'_

There he was, as far away from her as possible and still be in the same bed. He always slept like that and at first it was funny but now it was just sad. The distance between them in this bed was indicative of the distance between them personally. She wasn't sure why it bothered her but it did.

She was surprised to find that she was wearing a sleep shirt. Usually after tying one on she just slept in whatever she'd had on when she hit the bed.

'_He cleaned me up and put me to bed! Why, after all that I put him through?'_

She glanced at her clock radio. It was a few minutes after 8. It was Saturday. He would be home the entire day and she'd have to avoid him at all costs. She couldn't face him after what she'd done or almost done.

The part of her mind that housed guilt, regret and shame picked that exact moment to replay the scenes from the bar.

'_No. I couldn't have done that? Loose change? NSA General?'_

She felt her stomach revolt and she sprinted out to the bathroom in time to avoid another embarrassment. She brushed her teeth and ran a brush through her hair and slipped quietly into the bedroom and dressed.

* * *

Sarah poured a cup of coffee and sat down in front of the computer that he'd left on earlier. Why?

The image of General Beckman appeared and drove any vestiges of sleep from her.

"Agent Walker, where is Mr. Bartowski? He requested this conference and the least he could do was to be present for it!" She guarded her time fiercely and hated tardiness. She guarded her weekends almost as fiercely.

"I don't know why he requested a conference, General. He's…he's out for a run. It's Saturday and that's his normal routine." She was lying to her boss, one of them anyway.

"You don't know? You broke protocols and blew his cover- _again!_ Why, Agent Walker, would you throw away this chance at redemption for the sake of a few hours of carnal pleasure with a _complete stranger_?"

Sarah gasped and stammered and finally said, "He – he told you about that?"

"No. He's probably convinced himself that he was responsible for your drunken behavior in some warped way only he understands. No, he simply emailed a request for a video conference. Our 'watcher' reported it to me last night via secure channel. Did you honestly think that we'd dump a valuable asset like Charles into an unprotected environment with a single dysfunctional CIA agent as his only protection?"

"I didn't give it any thought at all, General." _'Dysfunctional' stung her pride and she'd spoken without thinking. _

"Well, at least that's the truth. Now, decide what you're going to do. If you leave, a cab will take you to our small facility in Eden and you'll out-process from there and report to the CIA for separation processing. Those are Graham's instruction. He's quite put out with you."

'_Separation processing? I'll be fired? Lose everything?'_

"Otherwise, Agent Walker, clean up your act and work the cover. He deserves better than he's gotten from you, Walker. Thirty seconds."

She was in a panic. She had no fallback if she lost the CIA. It was all she knew. It defined her. And she'd lose her connection with Bryce.

* * *

Chuck woke to the sound of voices in the kitchen. He pulled on a pair of pants and a sweatshirt and walked out to see what was going on. He stopped in the doorway, out of sight of the web cam, and listened. This was supposed to be _his_ conference call.

"I'm sure when this phase of the intersect operation is wrapped up, Director Graham will team you up with Larkin if you perform your duties as required. _All_ your duties."

Beckman meant 'work the cover and protect the asset' but Sarah assumed something else entirely. So did the young man eavesdropping.

Sarah thought the General meant that when 2.0 came on line she was to terminate the asset. Subconsciously she'd kept her distance for that very reason. This would be her second Red Test_._

Chuck wouldn't have had a clue what a 'Red Test' was but he knew that '_All you duties_' meant eliminating him when the time came.

'_Have I fallen that far in the Agency's estimation of my worth and effectiveness? 'Dysfunctional'.'_ Sarah was far from dysfunctional – in her own mind.

Chuck bristled and almost interrupted the conference to demand an explanation and to have his say but his sense of survival prevailed and he kept quiet, returning to their bedroom and undressing and pretending to sleep.

He'd made coffee earlier and set the timer, something she'd never even consider doing unless _she _wanted coffee. She poured herself a cup and then sat down to think. She needed to work the cover, give the 'watcher' nothing negative to report, and hope that the occasional mission outside the cover would break the monotony and improve her standing in the Agency and give her time with Bryce 'off the books'.

St. Louis wasn't all that far away and Bryce was investigating a possible Fulcrum cell and it wouldn't be hard for either of them to slip away for a few days and meet there.

'_OK, Sarah, time to make nice with the asset'._

She poured a second cup of coffee and then stopped. He knew how she took hers. That was basic tradecraft when working a cover. She had no idea what he put in his, if anything. _'Dysfunctional'._

She walked into the bedroom and knelt down on the floor beside the bed and blew the fragrance of the fresh brew into his face almost laughing when his nose twitched. He cracked open one eye and almost smiled.

"Nice aroma to wake up to in the morning. What's the occasion, Agent?"

"I'm trying to be nice, Chuck. Meet me halfway, OK? This is hard for me. You have no idea how uncomfortable I am in this setting."

She was lying through her teeth and he knew it. She was a chameleon, able to change and adapt to almost any environment. She was playing him.

Chuck gave her a look that said, 'Yeah, sure, and I'm supposed to believe that lie?'

She frowned at the floor. _'This is going to be a lot harder than I thought.'_

"What do you want to do today? It's Saturday and I have nothing special planned." Maybe they could go shopping or just go for a ride through the surrounding countryside and…talk.

"Good, then you won't need the car. I have to drop stuff off at the dry cleaners and then hit the Laundromat. I should be back by noon and I'm sure you'll have something planned that'll get you out of the house for as long as possible. Just don't bring him back here, OK?"

It was said so 'matter-of-factly' that any response died of shock.

He got up and started dressing, ignoring her presence, and she just put the coffee cup on the night table and walked out to the kitchen.

She felt like he'd actually struck her. His comment had cut deep and really hurt. Last night – last night she was angry and wanted to hurt him, to make him feel as bad as she did. Apparently, she'd succeeded.

A few minutes later he walked into the kitchen and added sugar to his coffee and then hoisted the large laundry bag over his shoulder, tucked his suits and her dresses under one arm and left._ 'He uses sugar in his coffee.'_

She didn't even notice that he was taking _her_ clothes to the dry cleaners. If she'd bothered to look, she'd have found _her_ clothes in the laundry bag as well.

* * *

Downtown Eden, Missouri

He walked out of the dry cleaners and almost knocked down his boss, Dr. Moran.

"Whoa! Sorry, Dr. Moran. I didn't see you there." He'd knocked her cardboard coffee cup out of her hand when they collided but he'd grabbed her around the waist and kept her from falling.

"Oh, I get that a lot. Tall people are always running over us shorter folks."

She was only 5'4" tall but it was true – good things did come in small packages. She was wearing jeans, a sweatshirt and tennis shoes. Her long hair was pulled back into a ponytail and she wasn't wearing any makeup. She was still one of the most beautiful women he'd ever seen. Her husband was a lucky man.

"Well, it's hard to see through all the clouds up here. I'm really sorry. Let me buy you another cup of coffee to replace the one all over the sidewalk. It's the least I can do for almost mowing you down."

He still had his arms around her waist and she had both her palms pressed against his chest.

They looked into each other's eyes for maybe 5 seconds before either of them noticed what they were doing.

"OK, I think you owe me at least a cup of coffee. I don't normally let a guy this close on the first date."

She smiled and then pushed herself back from him and Chuck could feel the blush flooding into his cheeks.

"Relax, Mr. Carmichael, I was just kidding. There's a diner just down the block. I think this is the perfect opportunity for me to find out how you're getting along and to pass on some comments students have made."

"Lead the way, Dr. Moran." Chuck was curious about the student comments. He really wanted to do a good job.

"It's Saturday, we're not in school, so make it Maureen and I'll call you Charles."

"Chuck. Call me Chuck. I hate Charles."

* * *

"And so, Chuck, the student ratings are very high and I have to say I'm surprised. You're a good teacher. The students like the way you connect what you're teaching to what is in their everyday lives. Even the jocks seem to be doing OK."

"Yeah, well, the jocks are the most challenging. I don't always get along with the sports crowd. I never had time for sports in school. I was always working part-time jobs and studying."

She looked at him closely and saw a shy man with a lot of natural ability who didn't talk down to his students and even spent time after school tutoring the ones who seemed to be trying but not succeeding. That was rare in a new teacher these days.

"How long do you think you'll be here, Chuck? Is this permanent or just until whatever danger you face is past? How's your wife handling it?"

"I don't know. This is my only chance to stay out of protective custody so I'm here for the long haul, I guess. She's my wife in name only, Dr. Moran. She's a government agent who is my 'minder' and the 'wife' thing is just a cover to explain her presence although it is legal and binding. She doesn't even like me very much. The government should have explained all of that when they set up "

"Chuck, that's horrible! I heard about Harahan's."

He raised one eyebrow and fixed her with a withering stare.

"Hey, it's a small town and people talk! Did you really knock Bob Hancock on his ass? Not that I blame you. He's a pig."

She'd reached across the table and taken his hand in hers without realizing it. She was shocked by his comments about his 'wife' and protective custody. Who _was_ this guy?

"Look, it's no big deal. Living here is great, really. I like what I do and I wouldn't mind calling this 'home' for the rest of my life. It's a lot different than LA – but good different."

He glanced at his watch and told her he had to run some errands and would see her on Monday. She watched him walk out of the diner and wondered if the 'wife' would mind if she asked her husband over for dinner some night. Both of them, of course.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Short but the only one for today.

* * *

A Slip of the Tongue Chapter 4

Sarah was on the phone when he walked in carrying the laundry. He walked back to the bedroom and put her folded clothes on the bed and put his own away. Whatever she was talking about was making her angry and he could hear her voice even in the back of the small house.

He changed clothes and went out the back door to the shed to work on his baby. The parts he'd ordered were in and he needed to make sure the electrical system could handle the additional load.

He didn't hear her walk up behind him. She could be incredibly stealthy when she felt the need. He saw her shadow and wondered if she'd been given her orders to kill him?

"Agent Walker, I put your clothes on the bed. I don't know where you keep things and I didn't want to dig around in your dresser. The dry cleaning will be ready Tuesday after 4PM", Chuck said to her shadow.

"Chuck, I'm going on a quick assignment. Graham will detail an agent to keep a close eye on you but you have to maintain the cover while I'm gone. Can you handle that?"

"Piece of cake. You're going spying and I'll keep on doing my thing here in beautiful Eden. Any idea when you'll be back? I'll need to pick up the dry cleaning on Tuesday then."

"Will you be all right? I can get out of it if it's going to be a problem for you."

"Nope. I can handle it. Won't be that big a change, really."

"I'll be picked up tonight. I don't know how long I'll be gone – not long, really."

"OK. I'll be here when you get back." He didn't mean it but the bitterness and anger he felt towards her was evident in his tone.

"Chuck, could you at least _try_ to be a little less sarcastic? This is what I do, remember?"

"Not likely to forget it, am I?"

She turned and walked away before she said something that would make the situation worse than it already was. She should have told Director Graham 'no' when he broached the mission but it was with Bryce and she wanted to be with him.

* * *

Director Graham contacted him on his cell while he was in the middle of giving a quiz to a class of 10th graders on basic machines like the inclined plane, the screw and others. He liked this class the best since the kids hadn't become 'high school students' like his older classes. They still liked to learn and hadn't been conditioned to think that ignorance was 'cool'.

Chuck stepped out into the hallway to take the call. Teachers weren't supposed to have cell phones in school but his was the exception. He neither knew nor cared how Moran explained it to the other teachers who'd voiced objection.

"Carmichael, in public."

"Go home. Conference in 30 minutes."

"I'm in the mid – ".

"I don't care. You have a mission. Go home."

He walked down the hall and into the office and told the secretary he had a family emergency and needed a teacher to monitor his classes for the rest of the day. Dr. Moran came out of her office and looked at him and he smiled.

"Our Saturday conversation has come back on me. I need to leave. Family emergency."

"Of course. Will you be gone long?" She knew it was government business and she'd been told to expect it from time to time but still she felt a frisson of irritation but also concern for her teacher.

"Not sure. If I can't…someone will contact you. I'm sorry but I do have to go."

* * *

Carmichael Residence

He fired up his laptop and went in to pack a bag but stopped. '_Maybe all they need is an intersect fix?'_

He heard the chime of the video conference connection and hurried in and sat at the kitchen table. Beckman and Graham shared split screens. Graham looked angry and Beckman looked like she always did. The woman must be a killer poker player.

"Charles, one of our teams has been out of contact for 36 hours and is feared lost. It is imperative that we determine their fate and whether or not they were able to accomplish their mission before they disappeared." Beckman was terse and professional.

"Bartowski, here are several satellite photographs of the house and surroundings they were to stake out. Here are the individuals they were to watch for and report back if any of them showed up."

The intersect didn't respond to the satellite photos but he felt the tug and almost-headache when he flashed on the 3 men in the photos.

"Walter Mitchell, front man for the Stangoli Family with ties to other organized crime families. He runs their 'legit' conglomerate while laundering millions in drug money through conglomerate interests."

He blinked a few times as if exposed to a sudden bright light.

"The second man is Peter Boothe. Mr. Boothe is an engraver and has done time for creating fake 'old master' etchings and pawning them off on the newly rich. He's good though. Hasn't been arrested since the 80s. Wait, he's blind! He can't be doing much of anything in the art world. Hell, he's in his late 60s, too."

"And the third man, Charles?" Beckman looked like she was starving and what Chuck said was food.

"Nothing. Nothing on file."

"OK, Bartowski, try these two. Can you identify either of the men?"

"I _know_ this guy. He and I were lab partners my freshman year at Stanford! There's nothing in the intersect but he was really into graphics – computer graphics. He wrote programs that controlled pixilation and enabled an artist to render incredible images using a special mouse. He dropped out of school around our junior or senior year and went to work for one of the new DotComs that were springing up. Carmen Alviani."

"And the other guy?"

"He's a government employee in charge of the production of currency at the Denver mint. George Cameron. No history of anything unsavory. Likes fast cars and faster women. Can you run a credit report on him?"

"We can do that, Charles. We _are_ the government."

She smiled to herself thinking that anyone who put this guy into detention was an idiot. He'd made more in-roads into the problem than all her analysts had managed since this issue came to the attention of the Combine.

Graham was talking about something but Chuck's brain was linking facts, making suppositions and arriving at conclusions.

"Counterfeiting! These guys are running a counterfeiting ring. But where does Boothe come into the picture. He's blind."

Graham stopped talking and looked disgusted. Chuck cringed mentally, figuring interrupting him was not the most intelligent thing to do.

"I'll write you a damned check, Diane. Jesus, Bartowski, sometimes I really hate you."

"Uh, sorry I interrupted you, Director. I just made a connection and I was surprised. Sorry."

Beckman was smiling, showing her teeth and crinkling her eyes. Chuck felt his stomach drop. Had he pushed them too hard? Were they just waiting for an excuse, no matter how flimsy, to put him under?

"You just made me $100, Charles. You identified the suspects and made the connection that's eluded us. Your Mr. Alviani was the key. I think Boothe was just smoke to confuse any investigation. Pack a bag, Mr. Bartowski. Warm weather gear. It's cold in Denver. A car will pick you up in a few hours."

"Hold on a minute, Diane. Bartowski, the missing team – it's Larkin and Walker. They exceeded their mission parameters and someone – probably that hotdog Larkin – tried to take down the group at the house we showed you. You won't be going in with the assault team but we'll need you to identify any prisoners we take. There's quite the confab going on there."

"Charles, your role is advisory only. Once the raid is over, you'll be needed to identify any captives or the dead. You have nothing to fear."

"Wait! I may have been wrong. Do we have any photos of the people attending this 'confab'?"

* * *

He was back in Eden three days later. He picked up his Friday schedule as if nothing had happened earlier in the week. He dropped by the office and checked in with Dr. Moran to let her know he was back.

She was on the phone with a parent but smiled and waved before explaining to her caller that 'Michael can't get into Harvard or any other school because he can't stay off the drugs in the family medicine cabinet and comes to school spaced out.'

Chuck hurried out of the office and to his classroom. He had enough problems to deal with.

Graham's 'confab' had really been an auction of mint-quality plates of selected US currency denominations, primarily ones, fives and tens. The action team that raided the chalet had taken heavy casualties but had scooped up all the plates, the major players and several foreign government reps and organized crime figures who were charged with counterfeiting, espionage and murder.

The whole thing was a Fulcrum operation to dilute US currency with bills of small denominations and not worth the trouble to scan or mark with counterfeit pens.

Alviani and Walter Mitchell had escaped when the raid commenced but their helicopter was forced down and they were both killed in the crash. Chuck had provided an ID of them as well as the detainees and their muscle. The intersect had almost all of them on file for something.

Bryce was dead. Walker was in the hospital and he wasn't able to see her or learn anything about her condition before he was hustled back to Eden by an agent who explained that it was standard procedure when a 'protected asset' was involved to minimize the chances of exposing his identity.

The substitute had been good and the class was on track. None of his students seemed curious about his absence figuring, correctly, that their own problems came first.

* * *

Carmichael Residence

He'd just finished dinner and was cleaning up when Beckman called on his cell to advise him that Walker wouldn't be back 'for a while' and that he was to tell anyone asked that she'd asked for a trial separation and gone back to live with her folks.

"General, is…is she OK? Losing Bryce must be devastating. Is there anything I can do?"

"Charles, she didn't 'lose' Larkin. He betrayed her and had her taken prisoner in exchange for a piece of the action and his guarantee that the Combine would be misled about the intentions of the group until after the auction was over. He was killed either by the strike team or one of the group. His body was in the group so badly burned that you couldn't identify them except by their personal effects. Walker made a complete report before going into surgery."

"General, she's going to need friends and family around her. You need to send her home until she can make sense of all of this. If there's anything I can help her with, just ask, please. Larkin… He was her 'one and done'."

"The doctors will make those decisions, Charles. You have your own problems to deal with. Live your life as normally as you can. I've heard through the grapevine that you're an excellent teacher. Keep up the good work and maintain your cover."

He got drunk. Roaring drunk. Walker was hurt, probably out of the spy business, and his former best friend Larkin was responsible. It was a shame that Bryce's parents hadn't believed in abortion. He hurt so many people in his life.

* * *

He woke up stiff and sore from sleeping in a kitchen chair. Groaning and stretching, he made his way to the bathroom, showered and then gathered up the dirty clothes and dry cleaning and prepared for his exciting Saturday excursion into the tingling heart of Eden – Main street.

The irony of the situation wasn't lost on him. Two days ago he was helping coordinate the take down of a major international crime syndicate and today he was dropping off his dry cleaning and then washing his own dirty laundry.

* * *

APR


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: I must confess - I am surprised by the positive reviews. Even the snarky ones had some redeeming qualities. Thanks. I guess I got worse as I wrote more? Beginner's luck. Enjoy.

A Slip of the Tongue Chapter 5

* * *

Main Street  
Eden, Missouri  
Saturday Morning

Maureen Moran had lain in wait for Chuck and she conveniently was just a few yards away when he walked out of the dry cleaners after dropping off the week's smaller pile. He had to buy more wash 'n wear if he was to live within his means.

"Hey, Chuck. We didn't get to talk yesterday. Is everything OK? Are _you_ OK?" He looked fine yesterday but today he looked – hung over.

"Yeah. Just have a lot on my mind. Sarah will be gone for a while. I don't know how long she'll be in the hospital. Hell, Maureen, I don't even know how badly she was hurt or if she's even coming back." He looked down at the ground. "The official line is that we're having a 'trial separation'."

"It's a small town. I'm sure the dry cleaner noticed you didn't have many, if any, of your wife's things this week. Tongues will wag. Just don't take it to heart. There's nothing much else to do around here but gossip and speculate."

"Oh, I don't know, Maureen. I think I'd rather have people speculating than investigating."

"I can understand that. So, Mr. Carmichael, do you have plans for dinner? I've made lasagna and unless I donate it to the football team, it's too much for just me. Why don't you swing by about 7ish? Casual dress."

"Um, I don't know if it's such a good idea, Dr. Moran. This is a small town and I'm supposedly a married man. I'd really like to, but I don't think it's a good idea especially since you're the high school principal and my boss."

"It's Maureen, remember? Saturday, not in school? Seven sharp. Be there. I'm in the book and the street's not hard to find. Be there, Chuck…please?" She figured after her comments about gossip that he was concerned about their reputations – most likely hers.

He just smiled and nodded. Maybe it was time to find out if life in Eden was the paradise he'd convinced himself it was or if there were serpents in the apple tree.

* * *

Chuck finished running his errands and showered and then remembered one of Ellie's etiquette lessons. _'Chuck, a good dinner guest always brings wine'._ He left a few minutes early and stopped by the Keg and picked up a bottle of wine.

Her house was larger than he'd expected and when he opened up the gate (there was a white picket fence around it – very 1950s) – he was attacked by a large mutt that insisted on a personal crotch inspection before allowing him to continue up the walk to the porch stairs.

"Walter, leave the man alone." An older man was sitting on the porch despite the early October chill.

"Hi, I'm Chuck Carmichael. Is this the Moran residence?"

"It is. Maureen's inside finishing up her preparations. So, you're a teacher, huh? Come to polish the principal's apple?" He chuckled and waved Chuck towards the door.

Chuck knocked and Maureen appeared, still wearing the same clothes from the afternoon's encounter.

"Hey, right on time. Oh, you didn't have to bring wine." And then to the old man on the porch, "Dad, it's cooling off. Come in and meet my friend from school."

Dinner was excellent and Maureen's dad regaled Chuck with tales of Maureen's early exploits and there was a lot of laughter until Liam spaced out.

Chuck looked at Maureen and saw her mouth 'Alzheimer's' and he understood that this was an all too-frequent occurrence that would only become more frequent as the illness progressed.

"He'll be fine in a hour or two or maybe in five minutes. It's gotten a lot worse since my mom died and that's why I came home. There's no one else and I want him home surrounded by familiar things as long as possible."

"It must be hard for you to see him sharp as a tack one moment and quiet and withdrawn the next." He wondered about his own father and his curious lack of focus and near compulsive secrecy.

"Yeah, it is but sometimes he goes all day without losing focus. Those are the good days. I have him in an 'adult daycare' at the local mental health clinic while I'm working and he's been preparing himself for this for years. He knew it was coming. His father had early onset but back then they didn't know what it was and just thought people were senile."

Chuck insisted on helping clear the table and then he dried the dishes while they talked. She was an extraordinary listener and asked very perceptive questions without pushing for more answer than he was willing to give.

They were drinking coffee when her father walked in and said goodnight to Chuck and apologized for going 'all crazy' on him. He had a twinkle in his eye when he told Chuck to stay as long as he liked but he was going to bed and was a _very _sound sleeper.

Maureen turned bright red and her father just laughed and made his way up the back staircase.

"I'm sorry about that. The older he gets, the less inhibited he gets. It's really kind of nice having someone in my life who doesn't pull the punches although his taste in clothing is so 70s."

"Well, I'd better be going. I really enjoyed being with you and your dad. It was almost like being home again. If you wouldn't think I was being too pushy, I'd like to return the favor and have you both over to my place for dinner. It won't be quite as good as your lasagna but you won't die of food poisoning either."

"Dad would like that. He likes you. He didn't hint that it was getting late and that I had things to do. That's a point in your favor, Mr. Carmichael."

"Well, Dr. Moran, I'd best be on my way. Thanks again for a wonderful evening and a great meal."

"I'll ask Dad about accepting your invitation but he'll probably insist that I come over alone. Won't be a problem, will it?"

"Technically I'm a married man, Maureen, even if it's a sham marriage. I'd feel better if Liam came along. It's a small town and you're my boss."

She sighed and kissed him on the cheek and sent him out the door with a smile and a Tupperware dish of leftovers and then settled in to do some serious thinking about Charles Carmichael and what her next step would be.

Chuck wasn't at all tired and hated the idea of going back to his small house out on the edge of town and decided to stop in and have a beer and maybe meet some of the more civilized locals. If Eden was the last stop on his journey, he needed friends.

* * *

He pulled into an almost full lot and walked into the restaurant where he and Sarah had had dinner _that night_. The bar was full of couples and a lot of unattached women and the dance floor was fairly crowded. The band was Canadian Crow and the place was loud and he liked it.

He ordered a draft and found a spot near the end of the bar nearest to the door and settled in to enjoy the music and the crowd. '_This must be goat roper night' _he thought uncharitably. Everyone was dressed up like their own impression of a cowboy or cowgirl. Well, eee-hah!

Chuck turned around and held up his empty mug signaling the bartender to bring him another. He felt a hand on his shoulder and turned around on his bar stool and there, in all his glory, was Bob Hancock and a few of his entourage.

"Where's the little woman tonight, Mr. Carmichael? Can't let her out on the town, can ya? Boy, that's one sweet – "

Chuck reared back and was going to knock his head off his thick neck when someone grabbed his arm.

"Hancock, carry your sorry ass back to your table. And take your court jesters with you. There'll be no fighting in the bar or I'll run the lot of you in for inciting a riot. Move it! Go hit on one of the girls and leave this guy alone."

He turned around and saw a cop. Then he saw the cop's face and his own split into a huge grin.

"Ca – " was all he got out before being dragged off his stool and led to the door.

"Shut up, Chuck. Too many ears."

Casey put him in the rear of the patrol car and got into the front and started it up and drove away.

"OK, moron, _now_ you can talk. So how have you been, Carmichael? I heard about Larkin and Walker. Tough luck. Beckman figured you'd get into some kind of trouble eventually so she had me take the Chief of Police 'vacancy' and head up the over-watch team. I'm Casey O'Hara now and I don't want to hear any Irish jokes."

"It's good to see a familiar face, Casey. Were you following me or just happened to be at Harahan's looking for trouble?"

"Coincidence but when I saw you ready to rip that asshole's head off I figured I'd best intervene. You can't draw attention to yourself, Carmichael. You're supposed to be deep cover and not attract attention.

"He was the aggressor, Casey, not me."

"Yeah, I heard. I guess Walker pulled one of her famous bar binge scenes and he was the one she went home with? Christ, maybe you're better off alone, Chuck. I can see why Beckman pulled her from the field. She's unstable after that mess with Larkin, and wasn't all that sharp back in Burbank either."

That statement pissed Chuck off immensely. "I have no idea what shape she's in. They wouldn't let me see her and no one has said one word about her. She's my handler or minder and I respect the job she does. She's hardly unstable, more like heart-broken. He was a total ass wipe and deserved what he got. And the shit with the goat roper happened before the blown mission."

"Miss her, do ya?" Ever snarky, Casey rubbed some salt in the wound.

"Yeah, so what? We're married for the cover and I'm supposed to have a wife to give credence to the cover but instead, I'm alone. Yeah, I miss her. She was someone to talk to, someone who knew me and my situation. I don't have any friends here and I don't think 'here' is long term anyways."

"Chuck, you've adapted better than Beckman ever dreamed you would and 'here' _is_ long term. Beckman's going to start dumping the dailies to you again since you've shown you can operate in the field on short notice and she needs you."

"Yeah, until 2.0 comes online and then it's bye-bye Bartowski. I get it, Chief of Police O'Hara." He could be as snarky as Casey if pushed and the situation was pushing him to his limit.

"Chuck, Beckman will skin me for telling you but 2.0 blew up. Graham's dead and Beckman is sole rep on the Combine. Unless something bad happens, you're the main man and Eden is your home. Just don't tell Beckman I told you. I think she wants leverage and she doesn't have it now."

"Take me back to the parking lot, Casey. I got to pick up my car and go home. It was nice seeing you. Please don't hassle any of my students. OH, what's that _smell_? It's – it's BACON!"

Casey's face turned red and he whipped the patrol car around and drove back to Harahan's.

"Watch your ass, Carmichael. Call me if you need anything. Remember, we're watching you…" He drove off laughing and Chuck just shrugged and drove home.

* * *

Carmichael Residence

He'd no sooner stepped one foot in the door and his cell rang – it was Maureen. She wanted to talk and he had nothing better to do – in fact he had _nothing_ to do - so her voice filled his late evening. He wasn't the only lonely person in Eden. They talked nearly for nearly two hours about the town, her life, her divorce and her subsequent return home from the big city. She'd finished up her doctorate and was planning on working in educational administration in St. Louis when her husband left her and her dad got sick.

She 'invited' herself to dinner the next afternoon but promised to swing by the KFC to save them both from his cooking.

* * *

Sometime later  
Unknown location

"Agent Walker, this is a bad decision and shows poor judgment on your part. You're hardly in shape to handle your own basic needs. How do you expect to be able to execute your duties in a field situation? You need more time. Continue the physical therapy and listen to your doctors. He'll be there when you're healthy enough for field service."

"Ma'am, with all due respect, he's my asset and my responsibility. His importance cannot be minimized – you said so yourself. I'll be fine. There's nothing physical in our relationship and my 'appearance' won't be an issue except in private. I need to get back to the cover."

"You require tranquilizers to sleep. You have crying jags for no reason at all – or so you say. Your wounds are not all healed yet. You will require extensive skin grafts and other procedures before you can 'go public'. I respect and appreciate your new-found zeal but I cannot allow it. I'll speak with your doctors in a month and reevaluate your position."

"But General Beck – "

"Good day, Agent Walker. God speed your recovery."

She started to cry. That's all she seemed to do was cry and sleep and hurt. She missed her home in Eden. She hated it and everything it represented until she hung from that pipe in the basement while Bryce Larkin sliced and flayed her body with her own knives.

Bartowski would have to survive on his own until she could return and pick up her sword and shield again. This time she wouldn't fail. This time she'd accomplish her mission. She would work the cover. She would _become_ the cover.

It was the last time she thought of herself as 'Sarah Walker'. From that moment on she was 'Sarah Carmichael, wife of Charles, and a resident of Eden, Missouri'. 'Sarah Walker' died in a basement in Colorado without notice or mourners, betrayed by the man she thought she loved, for money and position.

They said Bryce was dead and that he died a painful death. Good! She should have sensed something amiss but she was too focused on 'them' and that cost her dearly.

Never again.

* * *

APR


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: You guys sure second guess me a lot. That's part of the fun of having it done and seeing how many different directions I could have taken it. If you're looking for 'i hate Sarah' moments - you're reading the wrong fic.

This chapter sets up the remainder of the story. Read it carefully so you won't have to go back once you're on chapter 429.

And thanks to all of you 'in the know'. It really helped.

APR

* * *

A Slip of the Tongue  
Chapter 6

October slipped into November and the first snows fell. Chuck and Maureen occasionally went to dinner 'publically' together and Liam insisted on Chuck coming for Thanksgiving dinner. He knew that he was 'married' and separated but he also knew his daughter was attracted to the tall teacher and he wanted her 'married and settled' before he totally lost his marbles.

Maureen and Chuck were a hot topic for the gossips but soon someone else caught their attention and left them alone. They spent a lot of nights watching movies at his place or fooling around in the kitchen or at her place, especially if her dad had had a 'bad day'.

Maureen was pushing him to have sex and he was holding out because of his 'cover' marriage. She said he was stupid to ignore what they felt for each other and what they both wanted more and more every time they were together.

"If she doesn't come back, then what? And if she does and she's still The Bitch, you're just punishing yourself, baby. It's not like we'd be the only people in Eden having sex 'outside of marriage'. I want this, Chuck, please don't make me beg."

"Maureen, this is so wrong on so many levels." He started ticking them off his fingers, one by one.

"One: If bad guys find me they'll kill whoever's with me to cover their tracks and take me. What if it's you? I couldn't live with myself if anything happened to you because of me."

She hadn't thought of that. That was a valid point. She also had to consider her dad's situation.

"Two: Sarah is my 'wife', I know it's in 'name only' but it's legal and more importantly, she's counting on me to support the cover. There's more to this than meets the eye. Don't ask, because I can't tell you."

"Three: Maureen, I really like you. If I didn't have – if things were normal, I'd be on you like white on rice but things aren't normal. What future could we possibly have together knowing that the government could decide that 'good old Chuck' costs too much or is no longer needed or…well, you get the idea. It's just not something I would do. I'm sorry. Yeah, I have feelings for you. You're beautiful and fun and smart and caring. I can't put you into my life without guarantees I'll _have_ a life and no one will give me a guarantee."

That was the last time he let himself get in that position. He limited their dates to public dinners or football games or school events, eventually to none at all, not even the Saturday morning coffee stop. He couldn't answer her questions and he had discovered that he actually missed The Bitch although he thought of her as 'Sarah' or Agent Walker.

Sarah Walker was the connection with his old life – the only one he had. He didn't analyze the 'why' of it, he just accepted it just like everything else in his life since getting that damned email from Larkin.

* * *

Casey finally cornered him at the bar where he had his occasional beer and talked to him like an older brother.

"Chuck, Eden is the last stop for you. If you're going to settle in, then settle down. Beckman would 'give you a divorce' if you just asked for it. She feels that you've adapted to the cover but still can be effective in the field. Walker's a basket case and getting serious treatment."

"She's a dedicated agent, Casey. Both you and Beckman will be surprised. She's made of sterner stuff than blonde hair and a beautiful body. You'll see. She'll be back and I need to stay in the cover. I won't cheat on my government-issued wife, Casey. It's just wrong. She'll need a safe place for a while and I'm going to provide it. I can't do that if I'm boinking broads all over Eden, can I? She doesn't need another betrayal in her life – even if it's just an over-indulged asset in the cover."

Casey shook his head and left him alone after that. He'd done all he could do with the moron. His 'ethics' were skewed too far into the light when he lived in the twilight. Some day he'd pay a price for them.

Maureen had told him straight up that she wanted to 'slip away for a week' and she wanted him to go with her. She had reserved a condo in Cancun with him in mind. He told her 'No' and that was almost the last straw for them.

"Fine. Just don't come crawling to me when she guts you and leaves you the 'world's only living heart donor'. I know you have feelings for me, Chuck, and I respect your sense of duty and honor but change the scene and put her in your shoes. Would she even think twice if that idiot from the bar had the condo? Damn you, Carmichael, I know it's not your fault but I'm falling in love with you and you're too damned noble to see that she's going to be the death of you some day."

* * *

December 21  
Carmichael Residence  
Eden, Missouri

It was starting to snow and it looked like it might stick. A white Christmas was something Chuck had only seen in the movies or on TV. It didn't snow that often in Burbank.

Chuck got home from school late. He'd been tutoring a group of students for the AP exams and it was already dark when he drove out of the school parking lot. He only had a few more days until Christmas break and he was mulling over what to do with two free weeks. Unlike so many others, he dreaded the solitude and isolation his 'vacation' meant.

He toyed with the idea of taking Maureen up on her week in Cancun and was probably going to call her before much longer. He was lonely. She wanted to be with him and she came with a hell of a lot less baggage than his wife. It was Christmas and he was alone. He decided to call Maureen and say 'yes'.

He unlocked the front door but froze. It was already unlocked and he knew he'd double-checked the doors when he left. It was a ritual with him.

He walked quietly off the porch and out to the shed where he worked on his baby and rummaged around and found Sarah's backup piece that she'd left in the nightstand drawer. Checking for the millionth time that it was loaded, he went up the steps to the back porch and opened the screen door and unlocked the back door and slipped quietly inside.

Chuck took out his phone and speed dialed Casey and said 'Code Black, residence' and hung up. Common sense told him to run away and hide until Casey and the over-watch team showed up but he was already in the house and by God no one was pushing him around anymore.

He heard someone tossing his bedroom and slipped off his shoes and walked as silently as possible down the hallway from the kitchen to the bedroom checking the bathroom and the spare bedroom for anyone who might be in there.

He was scared but determined. It was a damned good thing he'd used the teacher's restroom before leaving school or he might have been leaving a yellow trail marking his passage.

Chuck stopped outside the bedroom and squatted down, cringing when his knees popped. Whoever was in the bedroom stopped what they were doing and began walking towards the door. He was ready for anyone but –

"Sarah?" He almost dropped his pistol in shock.

"Chuck? You scared me. I didn't hear you come in. Where are your shoes? And why the pistol – oh, you thought…" Whatever she was going to say was lost when the front and kitchen doors crashed open and four heavily armed agents in tactical gear converged on them.

"Carmichael, I'm Flynn, senior agent on over-watch. So this is your intruder? You did the right thing in calling in the code but you absolutely fucked up by not withdrawing and letting us handle any intruders. Remember that in the future."

* * *

They were gone as quickly as they'd come and Chuck set the safety on the pistol and handed it to Walker.

"It's your's. You left it in the nightstand drawer. I moved it to the shed since that's where I spend most of my off hours. Are you picking up your stuff and heading off to another assignment or are you back?"

"Which answer will make you happier, Chuck?" She looked at him and saw loneliness and fear in his eyes. She couldn't ever remember seeing him afraid, not this kind of fear.

"Surprise me, Agent Walker. Tell me the truth." He hadn't meant to sound so cold and lifeless but he was still getting over the shock of seeing her and almost killing her. He had put pressure on the trigger and had felt it slowly pull back. It had been a near thing.

"It's Carmichael, not Walker, Chuck. Let me finish getting changed. There's fresh coffee in the kitchen. The place looks nice, Chuck. You've added some things and it looks nice."

He knew he wouldn't get a straight answer from her. He wasn't surprised. She was a spy. They never told the truth straight out. Everything was predicated on 'need to know'. Well, damn it, he needed to know.

"I'll be in the kitchen. All your stuff is clean. Most of it's still in cleaner bags. I just left things as they were except for the pistol. That should make packing simple."

Sarah watched him turn away and leave her alone. '_He's changed'_ was her first thought. '_I wonder why?_' was her second. She finished dressing and headed for the kitchen and her - husband.

She stopped dead in her tracks when her mind threw his last comment back in front of her 'awareness'. _That should make packing simple_.

"Chuck, I'm not going to be packing. I'm _un_packing. I'm back but there are conditions. I can't carry a firearm yet so you'll have to keep this popgun. You should have one on you or near you at all times." She handed him the 9mm Beretta after making sure the safety was on.

"OK. What conditions?" As expected, she hadn't answered his question.

"The General is worried about you, Chuck. You're the main game in town now. Hell, you're the _only_ game in town. 2.0 blew up and killed Graham and a bunch of programmers. We report to the General now. There's no elimination order in your future, Chuck, so you can relax."

"OK. That's good news but I'm sorry about Graham. What conditions, Agent Walker?"

"I have a mandatory daily therapy session online with my NSA counselor." She was ashamed to tell him, afraid he'd think less of her. She sighed at his use of 'Walker'.

"What conditions?" She still hadn't answered his question. So she needed therapy and doing it online made sense considering where they were.

"I have to make the cover work. If I can't, I'm gone. No second chances. I've used them all up. I'll be a civilian and a security risk." She didn't elaborate on that. He had enough on his plate now without adding her woes to his.

"Those are the conditions? No gun, mandatory counseling and you work the cover? Those are the conditions?"

"Yeah. So, which answer do you want to hear to your original question?"

"I've missed you more than I thought I would. Does that surprise you?"

Her answer was a whispered "Yeah, it does, all things considered."

"They wouldn't let me see you after the raid. No one would tell me a damned thing other than 'she's alive'. I'm just an asset and had no 'need to know'. I'm sorry about Bryce. I'm sorry for your sake. I won't miss him. I'm not saying that to hurt you, Sarah, and I have no illusions about how you feel about me. I'll try and be as accommodating as possible and I'll work hard on the cover. I know how much your career means to you."

He blurted it all out, glad she was back but uncertain about her. '_Why would they send an unarmed agent to watch over a critical intelligence asset? Was coming back here part of her mandatory counseling?'_

"You were there? Why?" She would handle his other comments later.

"I connected some dots, identified some players and then the Combine sent in a special unit and I was in the command vehicle coordinating stuff and then I had to identify the dead and the prisoners."

"Oh. So you know about me then. Does it make a difference?" Maybe this wouldn't be as difficult as she'd feared.

"I told you they wouldn't let me see you and no one told me diddly squat about your condition. It was like beating my head against a brick wall. All they'd say was 'she's being cared for'. I was so damned frustrated."

"Someday I'll tell you but not now. Please, just accept the fact that I'm back and it's permanent. I won't let you down, Chuck. I promise. Just be a little patient with me and don't ask questions about therapy or what happened. I promise I'll tell you but I can't – not right now."

"OK. It's really none of my business anyway. I was just worried about you, that's all."

"Did you mean what you said before, Chuck, about missing me?"

"Yeah. I meant it."

"I'm glad. I'm glad to be home, too. I missed this place, believe it or not. And I missed you from time to time. Does that surprise you?" She'd unwittingly used the same phrase he'd used.

"Yeah, it does." He whispered his answer. It seemed appropriate somehow.

"Good. Now, is there anything to eat or have you been living on fast food and take out?"

* * *

Their first night back 'together' was strained. Sarah had spent an unusually long time in the bathroom and Chuck was tempted to check on her but figured she needed her space and privacy. He was propped up against the headboard correcting papers and recording grades when Sarah finally emerged from the bathroom.

She was wearing sleep pants and a t-shirt and had put her hair up into a sleep bun. She slipped into bed and rolled over on her side and watched him correct papers and she had to smile. It was so normal and comfortable. It was safe.

"Does the light bother you? I can go out to the kitchen and finish up these few tests."

"No. I like it on. Just keep doing your thing, Mr. Carmichael. You seem so intense and yet relaxed. How's school going? How'd you handle the mission and school?"

"Maureen's the principal and my contact. She's in the loop and is my contact at school. Getting away was no problem. I've run one op since then and so far the school is fine with my absences. The substitute they bring in for me is a retired teacher and knows the sciences so it's no problem."

"Maureen?" One eyebrow was raised but he didn't notice it.

"Dr. Moran. We've gone to dinner a couple…of…times…" Shit. How would he explain this to Agent Walker – Agent _Carmichael_ – his wife. And how would he tell Maureen that his wife was back? Oh shit, oh dear, he was so dead.

"Chuck – "

"Sarah, let me explain before you kill me, OK? You were gone and Beckman said to use the 'trial separation' for public consumption. She wouldn't tell me anything about your condition and gave me no hint if you might return. Hell, I'm not apologizing for wanting someone in my life who – who – "

"Someone 'who' what, Chuck?"

"Never mind. It's not important. I'll finish these few up in the morning. Wake me if you need anything, OK? Anything at all."

"Can you please leave the light on, just for tonight? I have to get used to all the house sounds all over again."

"Of course. No problem. I usually fall asleep with it on anyway."

"Good night, Chuck."

"Night, Sarah."

She couldn't sleep. He wouldn't finish his sentence and she'd spent hours completing it for him. She was exhausted and finally fell asleep.

Chuck hadn't slept much either. He should have finished his damned sentence and then it would be out there on the table for them to discuss. But he hadn't. She probably wouldn't have wanted to discuss it anyway.

* * *

APR


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: I'll be away most of next week so last update will be tomorrow or Sunday for a while. Can't be helped.

This chapter is longer than I'd like but necessary for continuity I guess. I'm thinking of dumping all 417 remaining chapters and being done with it all but I can't remember the file append command.

Enjoy. And thanks for the pungent and penetrating reviews especially from some new readers. Glad to see them - especially the one's that start "OK, I don't usually read your crap but...'.

Y'all are getting better at picking up the hidden gimmicks. I got to try harder to surprise and outrage you. Those of you schlepping through Sleeping with the Enemy - honest, no clones were injured in the creation of that garbage. I blame it all on Galway Hookers and Irish health care.

APR

* * *

A Slip of the Tongue Chapter 7

Carmichael Residence  
Eden, Missouri

"Will you need the car today, Chuck?" She had plans.

"Nope, not if you drive me to school, Mom." Subtle humor and it went right over her head.

"I can do that. I have some errands to run and I need to buy some stuff – for the house. How did you survive so long without a _toaster_?"

"Um, didn't have a toaster – so I didn't want toast. Learned to adapt to my new environment. I've had to be very flexible and I never got around to buying a toaster. No biggie."

"OK. That makes some sense in some 'Chuck' way. What time do you have to be at school?"

"7:45. We've got an hour before we have to leave. It's not LA traffic, Sarah. It's only a 5 minute drive unless we hit a school bus."

Sarah dropped Chuck off at the front door of the school and fought the oddest urge to kiss him goodbye. '_It's what a wife would do – even one with marital 'issues' but then it's not real. It's the cover. It's just the cover_.'

She noticed a short dark-haired woman greet Chuck warmly and walk with him up the cement steps and into the school.

The agent in her evaluated body language and posture and proximity to her husband and several dozen other factors. Her subconscious evaluation provided her with an identity. It took less than 2 seconds.

'_So that's Maureen? Interesting.'_ This woman was a _definite_ threat and would have to be dealt with.

Sarah pulled away from the school and began running down her mental checklist of things to be done. She heard the warble of a police siren and glanced in her rear view mirror and swore.

She pulled over to the curb and waited for the cop to arrive at the driver's window and explain why he'd stopped her. She hadn't been speeding and since she had excellent situational awareness, she knew she wasn't breaking any traffic laws. She drummed her fingers on the steering wheel in impatience.

Gloved knuckles rapped on her window and she lowered it and glanced up at her tormentor.

"Casey?" His face was the last one she expected to see in Eden.

"Ma'am, please get out of the car and get into the cruiser. Bring the vehicle registration and proof of insurance also."

He was totally professional. She could see Casey as a cop. No question that anyone seeing him would buy into the disguise. He was made for law enforcement.

Sarah settled into the seat beside Casey and smiled tightly. _'This will be interesting.'_

"This is the only time we'll meet, Walker. No casual run-ins on the street or in a store. I'll contact you. You will not contact me at all unless it's a code word situation. Chuck knows I'm here but I want you kept out of that loop. He doesn't need to think he's being 'handled' again. Beckman's orders."

"Are we handling him, Casey? I'm not ready for that yet."

"I know that, Sarah, and he probably suspects as much. This is a bad idea. I don't think you're nearly ready for prime time either. The shrinks at Langley think that it was necessary for you to return. Neither Beckman nor I agree but they overruled us because it's a 'medical condition' not an operational one."

"Have you seen him, Casey? Have you looked into his eyes and seen the fear and loneliness there? He needs someone in his life that can ground and center him and that's me despite what you might think."

"Has he mentioned the Moran woman? She's the Agency contact in this little drama of ours. They've gone to dinner a few times, four to be exact, and he's been to her home for dinner and met her father. He's an Alzheimer sufferer. Still mostly lucid. They had him over for Thanksgiving dinner. He really likes your husband."

Casey didn't mention the 'heavy breathing sessions' with Maureen. He liked Chuck and tried to limit his loss of privacy. He kept his mouth shut about their earlier conversation about settling down and sinking roots in Eden.

"Most people do, Casey. So why the traffic stop?"

"Beckman doesn't agree with the Agency's rule but can't 'officially' overrule the medical people. So instead, she's going around them."

He handed her a package and from the weight of it she knew it was a pistol and ammunition.

"Don't shoot him by mistake, Walker." Snarky and reminiscent of better times.

"I'll try not to. And it's _Carmichael_. So this thing with the Moran woman – is he serious about her? If she knows I'm an agent and not really his wife –"

Casey ignored her concerns. He figured she'd either do something to distract Chuck or ignore the situation and play the martyred wife role.

"I take it from the surprised look on your face that Chuck didn't out me to you? Maybe he's remembering some of his lessons. Need to know and all that shit. He's developing nicely, Sarah. Beckman says he's sharper than ever.

"He knows about Flynn but no, he didn't 'out' you. Are we done here, Casey?"

"Yeah, Walker. If anyone asks, you were given a warning for exceeding the speed limit in a school zone."

"It's _Carmichael _– you damned NSA Neanderthal!"

* * *

Maureen knew that The Bitch was back. She saw Chuck being dropped off by a blonde and knew that it was over between them. She tamped down her emotions and greeted him warmly just like every other morning. It wasn't his fault. It was a damned shame. He was a victim not a willing participant.

"Morning, Chuck. I see you got a ride to school? It's OK, I understand that what's going on in your life is 'complicated'. I guess this is the end of Chuck and Maureen?"

"Maureen, I'm so sorry – "

"Don't! Don't apologize for what isn't your fault. I'll put a lid on the drama. You don't need it. We're still friends, right?"

"That's all we can have. I'm – "

"Well, have a good day, Mr. Carmichael." She walked away and he felt torn between his loyalty to his cover and his feelings for Maureen. It was no contest. She lost. He lost. He almost turned around and left but he had nowhere to go except the little house out in the sticks.

* * *

Christmas came and went. Chuck gave Sarah a thick terry bathrobe that hung to her ankles. He told her that he knew she was cold after a bath and he figured she would get some use out of it.

"It's not unique to this mission so you can always take it with you when you leave." He'd said it so matter of factly that she couldn't find any reason to doubt his words. He still didn't trust her to keep on mission and she felt a sharp flash of anger

That night after her bath she put on the bathrobe and was immediately warmer and much more comfortable. It was a thoughtful gift and he'd obviously put some thought into it. Sarah tied the belt around her waist and thrust her hands into the deep pockets.

Her right hand encountered a small package and she pulled it out and gasped after unwrapping it. The small blue box contained a necklace with a stylized guardian angel in the center and a scrawled note that read simply 'For my guardian angel'.

No one had ever given her such a personal or heartfelt gift like this before. She walked out to where he was writing out the monthly bills and handed him the necklace.

He glanced up and was confused by the intent look on her face. "Too personal?"

She turned and lifted her hair and whispered, "No. Please put it on me."

When he closed the clasp she turned in his arms and kissed him lightly on the lips, shocking the hell out of him.

"Thank you. Both gifts were very thoughtful. I'll never take this off, Chuck. It's so special. You have no idea what it means to me."

"It's just a bathrobe, Sarah."

"Don't be so dense, Charles. You know what I meant. Thank you."

"You're welcome. No more shivering Sarah making the bed shake."

She had a lewd thought about making his bed shake but not because she was cold. She quickly pushed such thoughts from her mind. It was just a cover, wasn't it? She had another thought, considerably less lascivious.

"I'm – I'm sorry I didn't get you anything, Chuck. I –"

"That's OK, Sarah. I never expected you to." Five simple words crushed her and she locked herself in the bathroom until she had her emotions under control.

* * *

He always left the house when she had her online therapy sessions. The NSA didn't care about vacations or if you were sick. Everyday meant just that – every damned day.

"How did that make you feel, Sarah? Do you think he said it to be spiteful?"

"No. He's not that kind of guy. How did I feel? Like shit. Dog shit. It was like he knew I wouldn't think of Christmas and him. Christmas is just another day to an agent. You know that, Katherine. You were a field agent."

She was fingering the medallion – the guardian angel – as if she could draw strength or answers from it.

"What are you going to do about it?"

The woman therapist had never been in Sarah's exact circumstances but close enough to feel a degree of sympathy for the young woman who was dealing with discovering she was human and fallible.

"I don't know, Katherine. I just – this is all undiscovered territory for me. I never cared enough to give gifts to my marks unless it was a mission requirement."

"Is that how you view Chuck, Sarah? Is he a 'mark'?"

"He's my asset, my responsibility. He's important to me because failing to protect him will ruin my future. He's definitely not a mark."

"We'll come back to that, Sarah. What about Bryce? Surely you two exchanged gifts, celebrated each other's birthday, that sort of thing."

"No. Bryce was never much on sentiment. He lived in the moment. I guess he was shallow and I never saw it."

"Is Carmichael shallow? Does he 'live in the moment'?"

"Chuck? No, absolutely not! Wait, he _lives in_ each moment but he doesn't live _for_ that moment. He plans, calculates, weighs options. It one of the reasons he's been so successful. Bryce reacted to events. Chuck plans for them, has contingencies. He _creates_ events sometimes."

"We talked about Chuck and how he's important to your future. Do you see yourself with Chuck down the road? Is he in your precious future or is he just a means to an end. Isn't that the definition of a 'mark', Sarah? A means to an end?"

She hit |CNTRL|ALT|DELETE and rebooted the computer, effectively ending her daily session.

In an office several hundred miles away her therapist smiled and made some notes in the file and then sat back and smoked a cigarette, not caring one bit that it was forbidden to smoke in Federal buildings.

Sarah sat motionless in front of the rebooting laptop. _Am I treating him like a mark? Is he merely the means to an end? _

* * *

When Chuck finally walked back into the kitchen from the shed, he could see Sarah's shoulders shaking and he correctly assumed she was crying.

'_That damned therapist is always making her feel bad. I thought the purpose was to make the patient feel better, not worse. Maybe I could ask Beckman to give her a break? Every day it was the same thing, therapy, staying in the bathroom and then an almost silent evening.'_

He started to leave and allow her some privacy when she turned in her chair and saw him leaving and said, "Please, I don't want to be alone anymore. Can we just sit and talk?"

He sat down across from her and handed her fresh coffee. He didn't think about it, he just did it. She noticed it. She was beginning to notice everything he did.

"OK, talk, Sarah. Or is this an Agent-Asset conversation?"

She frowned and then realized that in all the time they'd spent together, she'd never had a Chuck-Sarah conversation. If she talked to 'Chuck' it was always in her role as either Agent or handler.

"How about a 'husband & wife' talk?"

"OK. What's wrong? I've given you enough personal space, at least I thought I was. If you're uncomfortable with something I wish you'd tell me."

"There's nothing wrong. Not really. It's just that – I don't know you, Chuck. I feel like I'm an open book to you and I have no idea what you're about. I don't like that. Not knowing, I mean."

"You've read my file, you know what's in there. What more could you possibly want to know? I'll bet you know my shirt size."

"18/36; I saw it on the label when I picked up a shirt of yours by accident."

"What more do you need for the cover? Don't tell me someone asked about me? Did you tell Flynn or one of the other watchers?"

"Chuck, I don't want to know for the cover. I want to know for me. We're living together. We're married. I should know more about my husband."

'_Oh, God, that's so lame. He'll never figure out what I mean.'_

"Yeah, about the 'we're married', are we? I mean legally?"

"Yes, is that a problem? It's made things difficult for you, I know."

"Yeah, it has but…it's made things simpler, too. We live together, eat and sleep together and we do all the cover things the public needs to see. About the only thing we don't do is – "

"Is what, Chuck? Have sex?" She was wondering when this would come up and how she'd deal with it. That wasn't a problem now. Sex, intimacy, those were definitely off the table. She felt about as sexy as a freshly shit dog turd in the sun. And no man in his right mind would want her after seeing her souvenirs of the blown Colorado mission.

"No! I wasn't talking about sex. I meant the only thing we don't do is have fun. We don't go out and have fun. You never let your hair down and just let go. You're always in control, never spontaneous. Every action seems to be weighed and plotted. The only time I saw you 'let go' you were drunk and on the prowl for a one night stand."

"That won't happen again, Chuck, I promise."

"I didn't bring it up to make you promise not to do it again, I only brought it up as an example of what I meant. Jesus, you're hard to talk with. Quit looking for the traps in everything I say. I'm not Bryce, damn it, I'm Chuck Bartowski and I'm tired of being compared to him. You do it, so don't deny it. I can see it in your eyes, in the way you react instead of respond."

"Chuck, I don't compare you to Bryce, I don't. I did before and I was wrong. The only thing you and that fucker had in common was a shared and painful history. You, Chuck Bartowski, Charles Carmichael, in whatever incarnation, you are _nothing_ like him." The anger and truthfulness in her voice stunned him.

* * *

New Years Eve  
Carmichael Residence  
Eden, Missouri

One thing that she and Chuck shared was a general disdain for broadcast TV. The networks were a wasteland and neither of them flipped on the small TV except to watch the occasional movie.

That's what they were doing, watching a DVD Sarah had picked up. Chuck frowned when he saw the title but figured he'd probably fall asleep so it didn't matter. Matt Damon was a whiner and Julia Stiles had mini-boobs and he wasn't really into teenie bopper stuff. He wouldn't miss much if he fell asleep.

Sarah liked Matt Damon and just saw his name on the cover and rented it. She didn't read the synopsis of the film or she wouldn't have touched it with a 10-foot pole.

It was _The Bourne Identity_.

Ten minutes into the movie she knew she'd made a horrible mistake. She glanced over at Chuck and found him totally engrossed in the movie. She could just imagine how he would interpret some of the things in the film. It wasn't that far from the truth of a few ops she'd been on earlier in her career.

'_This is bad. This is very, very bad. There are some disturbing parallels between Jason Bourne and Chuck and I know his keen analytical mind will find them and wonder why I picked this particular movie. And then there's the damned ending.'_

Sarah glanced at the clock on the mantle and saw it was 11:58. Last year she and Bryce had been in Lisbon. She shook her head to lose the memory. The bastard is burning in Hell_. ' I hope he's suffering. I hope he's screaming in pain.'_

11:59PM

She picked up the remote and paused the movie. Chuck looked over at her and she smiled and said "Happy New Year, Chuck". She leaned over and kissed him at exactly the stroke of midnight.

He was surprised. No, shocked. She had soft lips and she pressed them to his and sighed. He enjoyed it. He didn't deepen it, figuring it was her who initiated the kiss and it was her kiss to direct. It ended sweetly, with a slow disengagement.

She still had her eyes closed and whispered, "Thank you, Chuck. Happy New Year. This will be a better year. I promise you."

She smiled and ran a hand through his hair and then turned the movie back on. He didn't say anything. He didn't stare at her. He just sighed and turned his attention back to Jason Bourne trying to survive in a world he no longer understood.

She went to bed shortly after the kiss, saying she was tired and still not up to pulling all-nighters.

She couldn't undo events of the past but she could and would shape events in the future if they were going to have one. She just wished she wasn't going to bed alone – and that surprised her. She looked back at her husband and felt a warmth flow through her. She could do this.

Much to her surprise, there was bond developing between her and Chuck. She _liked_ her husband. The thought of 'liking' one's husband made her chuckle. Most people married for love. That wasn't on her dance card.

There were things about Bartowski that she admired, some things she detested but mostly admired. He was honest, unassuming, introspective and very altruistic about others. He was a fine man but he'd be a lousy spy.

Honesty? Not something highly rated in the espionage business.

Altruism? Only in the sense of the Greater Good. She took pride in serving and protecting the faceless masses that made up the 'Greater Good' but knew that if she actually got close enough to see them, she'd reconsider in a heartbeat. It was far easier to owe loyalty and devotion to an amorphous concept than to specifics.

Beckman had shocked her and given her a choice when she'd had her final post-release conference with the general. She would 'grant Sarah a divorce' and reassign her to active field duty 'without prejudice' or she would allow her to return to her duties with Team Intersect, become the asset's wife, and live out her life in Eden, Missouri, keeping herself available and in readiness for the occasional mission if it involved the intersect.

Beckman had been surprised when she'd chosen to return to Eden and had said so very bluntly and candidly.

"I would have thought that the 'divorce option' would have been your choice. Explain your choice to me, please. I'm curious since you don't really like Bartowski, never appreciated his abilities and expressed nothing but dissatisfaction with him."

"I was wrong. I judged him based on agent standards. They were too high and of course he failed to measure up – and I considered those times he did perform adequately to be flukes, randomness, and again I was wrong."

Beckman raised an eyebrow and made a 'continue' motion with her hand.

"I compared him to Larkin because they had history together. I forgot the outcome of that relationship. I should have seen the parallels but I was blinded by my personal feelings. Now I'll bear the reminders for the rest of my life. I want to make up for my failure. It's both personal and professional. I need to redeem myself in the eyes of the asset and in the eyes of the man. It's just that simple."

"I'll be his 'wife', I'll support him and be his protector and one day, maybe, I'll be more but for now, that's enough."

* * *

APR


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: TWO! I've been told 'we have plans for the weekend' by the Boss so I'm giving you the Saturday/Sunday installment. Pls review. The average numbers and hits are my motivation. Actually, I like reading them since some of you can think.

Enjoy. I'll be back Wednesday or Thursday depending on results of the experience.

APR

* * *

A Slip of the Tongue Chapter 8

New Year's Day  
Carmichael residence

Sarah woke up early, showered and dressed and then slipped out to the kitchen to prepare breakfast. She'd watched him many times and figured she'd start the New Year out right as a wife and as an agent. Breakfast was step one. Working on their cover, setting up 'escape and evasion' plans and talking seriously about 'going off the grid options were all on the agenda'.

She went through a dozen eggs and almost a pound of bacon before she got it right. Satisfied that everything was perfect, she eased into the bedroom and lay down on the comforter that covered him and blew in his ear lightly.

"Chuck….Chuuuuuck…wake up, Chuck. I made breakfast and it's going to get cold. C'mon, sweetie, up and at 'em. It's the first day of a new year."

"You – you cooked? Breakfast? Give me a couple of minutes and I'll be dressed and at the table. You cooked?" He smiled and she nodded, looking serious.

"It's getting cold. Move your ass, Chuck. Please?"

The grin on his face when he saw the breakfast table was reward enough for Sarah that she seriously considered doing it every morning. It wasn't really all that hard once she figured out how to flip the eggs without breaking the yolk and finally got the bacon cooked without blackening one side.

"Sarah, this is an incredible surprise. You didn't have to go to all this trouble for me. But thank you."

He didn't mention the random bits of eggshells in the eggs. She was trying and he would support any effort she made to keep it real for them without dragging in the drama.

"I'll clean this up since you slaved all morning. Go back to bed, Sarah, and I'll bring in a fresh cup of coffee and we'll…"

His cell rang and he answered it.

"This is Chuck. Maureen, stop crying, baby, I can't understand you. He's _what? _Where? OK. Call the cops and I'll be there in five minutes. Wait! Don't call the cops until I get there. You don't know how they'll respond."

He ended the call and put his cell away and got up and reached for the car keys on the hook near the door. He stopped and turned to her and saw her face. She looked – bereft – that was the word.

He made a decision that would have consequences but then what decision doesn't?

"I wouldn't mind some company, Sarah. Maureen's father has gone a little whacko and he says he wants to see me. She's scared to death and didn't know what else to do. Liam has Alzheimer's and I think he's at the point where she can't handle him any longer. Will you come with me?"

"Yeah, let me get something from the bedroom and get shoes on and we'll go. Be two minutes, no more."

'_He called her 'baby' and she called him for help. _

She got her pistol and put it in her purse and ran to the car. _'He called her baby'._

* * *

Maureen was standing on the porch when they pulled up. If looks could kill, then Sarah would have been dead and cremated on the spot, her ashes blown away in the January wind.

Walter appeared from around the side of the house, barking and wagging his tail and conducting the mandatory 'crotch inspection' that precluded letting him further into the yard. He ignored Sarah entirely, sensing a type of human he was not used to dealing with.

"Chuck, he's around back and he's got his old shotgun. I thought I'd locked up all his hunting gear but he had that one in the attic. He's angry and he wants to talk to you about me – us."

"Sarah, this is Maureen Moran, my principal. Maureen, get two cups of coffee and your Dad's bottle of Irish Mist. I guess it's time to have a talk. If things go bad, call the cops but not until then."

"Chuck, I don't like this situation at all. Have her call the police. He's dangerous and he's armed. This is not your mission brief, damn it!"

"When did you stop being a human being, Agent? He's my friend. He's losing his mind and he can't understand or help what's happening to him. He's scared, Agent Walker, he's scared all the damned time. He's losing his world a little bit at a time. I won't turn my back on him. I'm not that far gone yet."

His words stung her like a lash and she mentally flinched at his accusation. He didn't understand that being human was a weakness in her world. _'Am I too far gone to be around people like these? Why won't he call me 'Carmichael'?' _

* * *

A few minutes later Maureen reappeared carrying two coffee mugs and a bottle of whiskey and handed them to Chuck.

"There's cream in Dad's and sugar in yours, Chuck. Please – please be careful. I called his doctor and he'll be right over." Sarah didn't appreciate the hand she'd laid on Chuck's forearm. Not one bit.

Chuck walked carefully back to the garage behind the house. He didn't want to spill the coffee or drop the booze that he'd tucked under one arm.

"Liam, it's Chuck Carmichael and I bear gifts – coffee and booze. Don't shoot me, old man. I might drop the whiskey."

"I ought to drop you where you stand, you bastard. Is that your 'wife'? Is she here just to visit or permanently?"

"I don't know. I told Maureen the truth upfront, Liam, and she made her own decisions. I'm not free to make any of my own. Not anymore. So do us a favor and either put the shotgun down or kill me. Either way will make a lot of people happy."

"My God, you're daft!"

"I've been told that before. So, what's it going to be, old man. A shot of whiskey or one of buckshot. I don't have all damned day and the coffee's getting cold. Decide. Right here. Right now. Shit or get off the pot, old man. Nothing will happen to you if you kill me, Liam. Sorry, but it's the truth. You're losing touch, old man, and no one will blame you."

Sarah leaned against the porch rail trying to watch her asset – no, husband – walk up the driveway. She wouldn't have a clear shot at the old man from here. She needed to get closer and she wanted to hear what was being said.

'_She knows how he takes his coffee. What else does she know that I missed.'_

"Maybe we should be out back on the porch in case they need something."

"Good idea. So you're the 'wife', huh? You know whatever happened back when he was 'on emergency leave' changed him. He's not the same. Something's missing."

"It was a hard time for everyone involved, but he's adapting." She was trying to establish a line of sight for a shot if it got out of hand but Chuck was in the way.

"So how long will you be staying this time? Got another 'trial separation' in the wings? It must be so hard on you living with someone you don't even like." There was the barest hint of disdain in her voice.

"Who told you that?" Dumb question. He told her. No one else knew about the 'cover' marriage.

"Your 'husband'. Are you even married? I can see what he sees in you but I don't know why when you're so obviously in love with someone else."

"He told you that, too?"

"No, I figured it out. When he came back from – from wherever he went - he was devastated by your injury and that no one would tell him a damned thing. He told me the day after he got back. It wasn't hard to see how it affected him. He was dying of a hangover and I saw his eyes when he talked about not knowing your condition or whether you were coming back or hurt so badly you'd leave the service."

She fixed her with a glare and said, "He and I – well, it's not going to happen, not as long as you're in the picture. He's so damned – so damned – loyal and – and - noble!"

"Is that all? Are you done?" She didn't like this short woman who had gotten into his heart, if only for a little while.

"I haven't even begun to fight, Agent Carmichael. I'll just wait for the next 'trial separation' and then swoop in and stake my claim. You don't want him like I do."

There were a few minutes of silence while they both watched Chuck and Liam talk. Both were very animated with hand gestures although most of Liam's were with the shotgun he was holding.

"You don't deserve him, Agent."

"I know but I'm working on it."

She surprised herself. She _was_ working on it and she hadn't realized it. Sure, she was working the cover just as she'd vowed to in the hospital but with two subconscious objectives, not one overt one. _'Just working the cover?'_

* * *

They pulled into the driveway of their little house and just sat there listening to the warm engine tick over as it cooled. They'd spent almost 5 hours at the Moran's, talking with Maureen and her dad's doctor and then with the police who'd shown up without being called.

_Chuck glanced out at the one cruiser that sat, engine idling, driven by a large cop who never got out. He walked over to the driver's side window and made 'roll it down' motions with his hand._

"_Don't blow my cover, Chuck. Damn it, you shouldn't even be here. You should have let her call the police like you first said. What if he'd blown your head off? You're the damned intersect – "_

"_You bug my cell, my house? You seem really up-to-date on my phone conversations!"_

"_No, moron, I bugged __her phone__. You should have gone to Cancun, Chuck. None of this would have happened."_

"_Walker needs me for the cover. I'm here because I'm working the cover. You and Walker have so much in common, Casey. She quit being a human being, too. Get rid of the bugs, John. I'm not going to run out on you. I'm here forever, remember?"_

"I'm tired, Sarah. I'm too damned tired to get out of this car. Man, that confrontation shit you see in the movies – it drains the life out of you."

"What you did was very brave and very stupid. He could have killed you and then…he could have killed you, Chuck."

"Maybe, maybe not. I figured he'd be a little more willing to listen to reason with a few shots of whiskey in him. He was just looking out for all that's left of his family, Sarah. He wants things settled while he can still appreciate it. Alzheimer's is stealing his mind away a little at a time, a day at a time, and he knows it. I guess I don't have it so bad after all."

She looked out the car window, suddenly interested in the play of the waning light on the trees. He'd gotten through her armor, broken her walls and breached her gates with his simple explanation of Liam's plight. His was not much different. Little by little, day by day, he lost more of his life to the Combine.

"Let's go inside. It's cold and…and I want to finish our conversation we started in the kitchen. Why haven't you used the fireplace, Chuck. We could pull the couch over in front of it and talk without freezing."

"I couldn't get the logs to light. I went through a ton of matches…"

"Oh, you…idiot! There's a gas lighter. I thought you were the genius in the family? I should have married better." She was laughing and he'd laughed with her but it seemed hollow and the look on his face betrayed his real thoughts.

'_Neither of us had a choice. Ours was the ultimate shotgun wedding, NSA style.'_


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: Big plans got cancelled by Mother Nature so here's the weekend's offering. It's not canon so some of you are having fits with motivation etc. They don't fit the mold anymore.

Still scheduled for the next few days out of touch. Maybe Wednesday but probably Thursday.

Quit bugging me about the other WIP - I'll get to them, just not right this damned minute.

APR

* * *

A Slip of the Tongue Chapter 9

Sarah got the fire going while Chuck made coffee and scrounged up some leftovers for them to eat. Chuck's cell rang and he yelled for her to get it since he had his hands full.

"This is Sarah Carmichael."

"Agent Carmichael, it's Maureen Moran. My dad's pretty lucid and he was going on about his conversation with – with your husband. He said Chuck was daring him to shoot him and that no one would harm my dad because he had Alzheimer's. Sarah, you'd better keep an eye on him. I think he's in trouble and 'suicide by nutcase' seemed like a reasonable way out."

A full 15 seconds elapsed without Sarah responding.

"Agent Carmichael, did you hear me?"

"Uh, yeah. I – I don't know if he's 'in trouble'. He was really concerned about your Dad and I think he just challenged him to make him think about what he was doing. We're finally starting to talk to each other as people instead of roles. But thank you, Dr. Moran, for the warning. I appreciate it more than you know."

"He's in a no-win situation. He has this almost chivalric sense of honor and obligation to you and his cover. I'll be honest with you. I tried everything I could to get him to sleep with me. He wouldn't 'betray his cover wife'. He said…never mind. Just watch over him. I know it's your job but he's – goodbye."

Chuck came over carrying coffee cups and their leftovers on a tray. "Who was that?"

"Dr. Moran. She called to tell you that her father was OK and to thank you for what you did."

"You don't like her, do you, Sarah?"

"Not even a little bit, Chuck, and I really don't have a good reason for it. Do you want to talk about this or continue what we started earlier?" She lied to him. She knew _exactly_ why she didn't like Maureen Moran.

"I want to settle some things, issues, problems, whatever you want to call them. Let's start with –."

"No, I want to talk about comparing you to Bryce. Maybe I did in the beginning. You were the reason we couldn't be together – you and the intersect. Of course I compared the two of you. Every time you pulled some boneheaded stunt that almost got you killed I compared you to Bryce. Every time you did something stupid and heroic I compared you to Bryce. When I screwed up and let my mouth run ahead of my brain and compromised your identity, yeah, I compared your reaction to what Bryce's would have been."

Chuck sat there stirring his coffee and listening. He thought he was hearing the truth for a change and while he might not like what he was hearing, he believed it to be the truth.

"I'm not Bryce Larkin, Sarah, I'm me. I'm not suave and debonair like Bryce. I'm not a ladies' man like Bryce. I'm not a superspy and superhero like Bryce. I'm me."

"I know and I've started to realize how different the two of you are. Bryce would have slept with Maureen as soon as possible and cemented his cover. You didn't."

"Sarah, we just had dinner a few times and watched some movies at her place or here when her dad was in synch with the world. I needed a friend and she met all the qualifications. I could talk freely around her and I never had to lie to her. I did not sleep with her. I don't do 'one night stands'. I don't cheat."

"Chuck about that night at the restaurant. I promise it will never happen again. I wanted to humiliate you and make you feel as lonely and bad as I was feeling. I'm so ashamed of what I did and what I said. I promise you it will never happen again."

There was that damned look again whenever she said anything with the word 'promise' in it.

"One last 'compare and contrast', Chuck, and then I'm done. What you did today, Bryce would never have tried. He wouldn't have cared and he wouldn't want to risk getting hurt for someone who was dying anyway. He would have been right in his world but wrong in yours. I think I prefer your world to his."

"Regardless of which world we lived in, Sarah, I would die before I'd betray you like he did. Nothing could possibly be worth betraying someone who loved you as much as you say he did."

She didn't want to talk about Bryce anymore. She didn't want to have to face the hard truth that he hadn't loved her like a man should love his woman - if he even loved her at all. It was probably just sex.

'_He treated me like I was a__ mark!__'_

That chilled her to the bone. Bryce had played her and she had been too blinded by her feelings for him to recognize it for what it was.

"Chuck, you said something to Maureen's father that has him really upset. He told her that you 'dared' him to shoot you and that no one would hurt him since he's got Alzheimer's. Did you dare him, Chuck?"

"It was just to get his attention. Liam's – "

"Is your life, _our_ life, here in Eden so bad that you'd rather die than continue living as you are? I'm really trying to adapt to this new life, Chuck, but you have to meet me somewhere along the way! I can't do it all by myself."

"Sarah, you're making a mountain out of a molehill. Or Maureen is. Liam couldn't decide what to do and I had to push him, that's all. He's a good man and he'd never shoot me. Even with dementia he's a better man than most. It wasn't a risk, it was a sure thing."

"Is life so bad here for you?"

"No. Actually I really like it here. I have a good job, a nice house and a wife who keeps me on my toes. I feel like I have a purpose for being here. I know it's not what you wanted out of your career but there's still time to get back on track. You won't be in exile long. Beckman needs good agents. Why sideline one of the best?"

His response seemed to mollify her somewhat and as was typical with her, she changed the subject when any benefit to her was exhausted.

"Can we sleep out here on the couch, Chuck? It's comfortable and cozy and I love the fire. If you don't want to, that's OK. It'll mean more room for me."

"Get ready for bed while I get more logs. I'd like to sleep in front of a fire too. Never had a fireplace before. Apartments don't usually have them. I like this a lot."

Chuck went back and showered and then came back with pillows and blankets. Sarah had staked a claim to the middle of the couch and was waiting for him.

"Chuck, stretch out and I'll just lie against you and we'll be warm and comfortable and can talk about anything you want. I just want to lie here and suck up being normal for a night."

Sarah stood waiting while Chuck spread out the pillows and blankets. He laid down on his side and patted the couch and whispered, "Lose the robe, Sarah, you'll roast in it."

"I – I can't. OK, but close your eyes and don't peek, Chuck, please? I have my reasons." He did as he was told and she flowed against him wearing a sleep bra and boy shorts. He had no idea where this sudden modesty came from.

"Put your arm around me, Chuck, it's OK. You'll be more comfortable and I like the idea of being held. Now, let's talk about how I never seem to let my hair down and have any fun without being plowed on my ass."

She felt his arm tighten slightly around her and then relax. His breath was hot on her neck and she shivered and pulled the blanket more tightly around them.

"Chuck? Chuck?" She wanted to talk and be distracted from the warm palm of his hand on her stomach and his warm breath that flowed over her neck and shoulder. _'I'll never be able to sleep with…'_ She never finished the sentence.

* * *

They'd migrated during the night in a subtle Brownian Movement with her ending up practically on top of him with her head nestled under his chin and her hands fisted in his shirt. He'd wrapped her in his arms and was snoring quietly. She'd gotten chilled and had burrowed into his warmth.

She woke feeling a moment of panic associated with being in a strange environment and then relaxed. Wherever she was, she was warm and safe and being held by two arms loosely wrapped around her.

Her bladder betrayed her.

"Bryce? Let me up. Please? I have to …" _Oh, shit! Not Bryce at all. _

He sat up and almost dumped her on her ass with the suddenness of his movement. He still held her in his arms but had tightened them when he felt her slipping away. He wasn't really awake.

"Chuck, I need to use the bathroom. Throw another log or two on the fire and I'll start the coffee and be back in your arms before you know it."

When Sarah walked out of the bathroom she giggled as Chuck ran in and slammed the door. "Need any help in there, Chuck?" She heard what she thought was his strangled laugh in response.

It wasn't until she walked into the living room that she realized that her legs were bare and that she was wearing a sleep bra and boy shorts. She started back toward the bedroom but Chuck was in the kitchen and so she wrapped herself in one of the blankets and walked into the kitchen.

"I'm going to – " She stopped when she saw how badly his hand was shaking as he tried to pour a cup of coffee.

"What's wrong? Chuck, talk to me. What's wrong?" She knew he'd caught her foot-in-mouth moment when she called him 'Bryce'. It was an accident. She wasn't fully awake. Surely he realized that?

"Who hurt you? Is the bastard still alive or was he one of the bodies I identified outside the lodge?"

He was furious with her for not showing him the scars on her legs and thighs and, he suspected, elsewhere. But mostly he was in a killing rage and wanted to set the bastard who did this to her on fire and then piss on him while he burned.

It took her a few seconds to translate what he said into words she could understand. He was so angry that it made him sound like he was growling instead of speaking.

She pressed herself against his back and wrapped her arms around him and held him tightly, waiting for the rage he felt to subside so that she could talk to him and know he was listening and could understand her.

"Bryce Larkin did this to me. He said it was his 'loyalty test' to validate his information. He – Please don't make me tell you, Chuck, it's over and done with and I don't want to remember it. He's dead. You helped kill him and I'm so grateful."

He pried her hands from around his waist and pushed her gently away and walked down the hall to the bedroom and closed the door. She followed him, not sure what was going on in his mind but she was afraid of his reaction considering everything Maureen had told her.

She had given him her backup pistol and she was suddenly flooded with images of Chuck dead on the bed from a self-inflicted gunshot would.

The door was locked so she knocked lightly and asked him to open the door and talk to her. She strained to hear any sounds but it was quiet as a tomb.

"Chuck, please don't turn away from me. I know I look horrible and that's why I'm so happy you bought me that big fluffy bathrobe to lounge around in. It hides the scars and makes me able to pretend I'm beautiful again. Chuck, please – "

The door was flung open and she was treated to Bartowski rage when he grabbed her and pushed her down on the bed and sat down beside her and paradoxically began gently tracing each raised or puckered scar on her thighs with a fingertip. She was trembling from both fear and embarrassment. His rage evaporated leaving him shaken but focused.

He started to pull off her bra but she grabbed the bottom and shook her head. Larkin had taken great pains to leave his mark on her breasts.

"Please let me see them, Sarah. I need to see them." She slowly let go and allowed him to pull it over her head.

"Oh, baby – "

He leaned over and kissed each scar still tracing each with a fingertip. She was shocked when she felt his tears drop onto her stomach and she put her arms around him and pulled his head up onto her breast and just held him while he cried for her. It was the most tender moment she'd ever experienced. He cried for her. No one had ever done that. No one had ever cared that much.

* * *

Much later when they both felt more in control of their emotions they talked about what had happened but Chuck put his fingertips against her lips when he saw her eyes tear up and simply said "No more. It's over. I promise you this, Sarah, no one will ever hurt you again as long as we're together. I promise you."

She glanced at the clock and whispered that she had to get cleaned up for her therapy conference.

"Sarah, ask your therapist when they're going to do the plastic surgery. You'll feel better once the worst of them have been reduced. It doesn't matter to me except for the pain it causes you. You'll always be beautiful to me. Wear the bathrobe all the time if it makes you feel more comfortable but don't think you have to hide your scars from me."


	10. Chapters 10 & 11

Nik's Notes: OK you undeserving soul-sucking users, this is your temporarily re-hired editor with TWO chapters. I've combined 10 & 11 since 10 was short and I'm in a great mood because even though he hates me for it, he's getting better and has gone from stage 4 to 3 and will be at 2 after this round of juice!

Even though 2,068 souless and unappreciative readers read Chapter 9 but left NO reviews, he is a happy camper.

Thanks to the few of you who reviewed especially the new readers. I would appreciate it if you wouldn't PM him asking about the others. He really can't do it right now. Maybe in a month or so. This may be his last session with the juice. Keep your fingers and toes crossed!

Nicole - Wife of APR - Math geek and official Keeper of Sacred Statistics

* * *

A Slip of the Tongue Chapters 10 & 11 Combined

While Sarah was in the bathroom getting cleaned up and dressed for her therapy session Chuck walked out into the shed and called General Beckman.

"Beckman. What is it Mr. Carmichael? Any trouble?"

"No ma'am but it was my understanding that you would be sending me intel reports and dailies and I've yet to receive the first ones. Have I been misinformed?"

"No, but I wanted you and Agent Walker to have a period – "

"Agent Carmichael, General. We're married, remember? Now, on the subject of my wife, when the hell is someone going to consider her mental state and arrange plastic surgery on the scars that son of a bitch Larkin carved into her? How she looks isn't important to me but it's vital to her. When, General? Her therapy would probably progress much faster if she felt better about herself."

"Agent Wal – Carmichael wanted to return to your side and elected to postpone surgery until the cover was stronger. It was her decision."

"Well, damn it, it's now _my_ decision. Schedule it and send me the dailies and intel reports. It'll give me something to do until she's back. Please, General, I've done everything you've asked, please do this one thing for me."

"I'll see to it and email Agent Carmichael her schedule. You'll receive the first batch tomorrow morning. Thank you for calling. Have a nice day."

He stared at the phone. '_Did Beckman just make a joke? Nah. Must be the vapors'. _

* * *

"Katherine, I can't be in the hospital and leave him all alone again. Our relationship is just beginning to firm up and – "

"He was alone during the three months you were recovering from your injuries. Besides, it's an order from the General but I'll tell you something if you promise not to mention it."

"OK. What's the big secret?"

"He demanded that she schedule the surgery. He told her it would help your therapy if you felt better about yourself. He's right, y'know? Admit it. You didn't willingly let him see them, did you? It was some kind of accident, right? How did he react?"

"He was shaking so badly that he couldn't pour a cup of coffee. He demanded to see them all and he…he was so gentle and then he started to cry and told me no one would ever hurt me again as long as he lived. It was very intimate but not sexual at all even though I was almost naked. He just ran a fingertip over each one and then cried for me."

"Tell me the real reason you're against having the surgery. He doesn't care about the scarring but he cares that you do. It should be a no-brainer, a slam-dunk. What's the problem, Sarah."

"While I was in the hospital he was in limbo. No one would talk to him about my condition, if I was going to return – nothing. He was alone with his fears and – shit – he and his contact here in Eden went to dinner several times and she told me upfront that she's going to 'stake a claim' if I'm gone again. I can't let that happen."

"Considering the progress you two have made and how he reacted to your injuries, do you really worry that he'll run off with this other woman? He sounds like he's made a very real commitment. Or are you still worried about losing your job, Sarah, and are working him like a mark for your own benefit?"

"I – I appreciate his commitment but I am worried about Maureen. She has real feelings for him and I think – I'm afraid of losing what we have, OK? Satisfied? He's not Bryce Larkin. He never could be. He'll always be Chuck from Burbank. It's who he is. I don't understand why I feel like I do, I just do."

"Your surgery is scheduled for Friday so you'll need to be here on Tuesday for pre-op examinations. I'll meet you at the airport and we can still have our daily chats but in a more comfortable setting. You'll be gone at least 4 - 5 weeks, maybe more depending on the degree of damage and what's needed to reduce the scarring."

"Do I have a voice in this matter? It's my body."

"No. See you Tuesday. Email me with your flight information."

* * *

She disconnected and went in search of her husband. They were going to have a serious talk about personal privilege and about joint decision-making.

She found him sitting on the edge of the couch staring into the flames of the rekindled fire. She hopped over the back of the couch and sat behind him. Feeling daring and in the moment, she put her arms around his neck and forced him to lay back against her chest so that his ear was right near her mouth. To make sure she had his undivided attention, she wrapped her long legs around his waist.

"Chuck, I'm scheduled for surgery and I leave on Tuesday. I don't want to leave you right now and I'll tell you why in a minute but first I wanted to thank you for making me realize that my therapy was going nowhere without facing my fears."

"Sarah – "

"Ack! I wasn't done talking yet. When I woke up this morning I called you 'Bryce' and I'm very sorry for that. I forgot who held me all night and kept me warm and safe. It's the best sleep I've had since the mission. I want to do it every night until I have to leave."

"Sarah – "

"Do I have to gag you? Other than a piece of paper, I have no claim on you and what I'm asking is very selfish considering that we're here because of my lapse in judgment. I really would like it if you could – um - if you, damn it! I want you to stay the hell away from Maureen. She's set her sights on you and I won't be here to run interference. I like you and I like what we have here and I'm afraid – I'm afraid it will affect – the cover." '_Liar, liar, pants on fire'_ was the response she got from the back of her mind where he shrunken conscience resided.

"Go get your surgery and we'll see how things progress when you get back. You're right, it's just a piece of paper but it's binding. I'll hold her off until you're back. I can't – I can't play her like you played me. It's not fair."

She couldn't help herself. She pressed a kiss to his cheek and hugged him tightly enjoying the warmth he brought into her heart. Maureen Moran was right. She didn't deserve him. She 'deserved' someone like Bryce who had thrown her to the wolves for his own benefit.

"Good boy." She was happy and comfortable and had no intention of moving anytime soon but he had other ideas.

"Go get gussied up. Would you have dinner with me tonight, Mrs. Carmichael? I'll meet you at the front door at 5."

She was momentarily confused but then the light burned through her mental fog. "You're asking me out on a date? A dinner date?"

"Yep. I figure since we got married and I missed the courtship and the wedding not to mention the honeymoon itself, dating seems the illogical next step."

"You're a nut!" It couldn't hurt anything. It was just for the cover. It was good tradecraft. She felt a fluttering in her belly and realized she wanted this for herself not the cover.

* * *

Sarah spent 2 hours getting ready. She fiddled with her hair, wasn't satisfied and fiddled some more. She picked out an outfit, put it on, took it off, selected another, put it on, took it off, repeating the process several times.

Chuck knocked at the bedroom door. He needed to get dressed.

"Sarah, I need to get dressed. Are you almost done in there? Can I come in and get what I need and then dress in the bathroom? Sarah?"

She opened the door and his jaw dropped. "Wow! You look – 'incredible' doesn't do you justice."

She was inordinately pleased. "Thank you. Chuck, can we go someplace other than Harahan's? Please?"

She didn't want to run into the asshole she tried to pick up. Those days were in the past. It wouldn't be good for the cover.

"I wasn't planning on going there at all. We're heading for the big city and Italian food and if we're too full or drunk to drive, we'll just get a motel room if that's OK with you?"

"Wonderful. I love Italian food and getting away sounds great although I was looking forward to another couch night."

"Then I'll be designated driver and you'll have your 'couch night', I promise. There's one thing I have to do before we go." He took out his cell phone and hit a speed dial number and waited just one or two seconds before it was answered.

"This is Carmichael. The wife and I are driving into the city for dinner just to give you a heads' up. We're leaving in 15 minutes. I have my cell and am carrying."

He listened for a few seconds and then smirked.

"It sure sucks to be you, doesn't it? Barring unforeseen circumstances, we'll be back by 10."

He disconnected the call.

_**A/N: PAY ATTENTION! WHAT FOLLOWS IS CHAPTER 11. 10 WAS SHORT SO I APPENDED 11 TO IT. DON'T FREAK OUT IF THERE'S NO CHAPTER 11 – GOT IT BOYS AND GIRLS?**_

_**NIK**_

_A Slip of the Tongue Chapter 11_

Traffic was light and he'd entered the GPS coordinates for the restaurant and found it with no problem. The exterior belied the interior and Chuck had asked around for a 'nice place' to eat and several people had recommended the place.

"Chuck, it looks like a warehouse. Are you sure you got the right address?"

"Trust me, Sarah, we're at the right address."

They walked down the sidewalk and Chuck buzzed for admittance. An old man dressed in 1920s formal clothes opened the door and ushered them in when Chuck confirmed their reservations. He snapped his fingers and two waiters seated them and took their drink orders.

Sarah was pleased at the ambiance and service.

"This place is incredible, Chuck. It's just what I imagine an early 20s Italian restaurant would look like. This is great! Thank you for the dinner invitation, even if we don't need to date, _husband."_

"I just wanted us to have someplace special to enjoy our time together. Now, I didn't see it in the car but I hope you brought an appetite, Sarah. No worrying about the waistline tonight, this is 'Sarah Pig-Out Night', OK? Just enjoy yourself for once."

* * *

The drive back was made in companionable silence. Sarah fiddled with the radio but both agreed that silence was preferable to the noise of the only two stations they could pick up.

They pulled into their driveway and parked and Chuck walked with her to the front door. He stopped to unlock it when Sarah took the keys from him.

"It's customary to kiss your date 'good night', Chuck. It's a time-honored tradition – especially out here in the Sticks."

He looked surprised. She took his silence for acceptance and initiated their first kiss.

"Wow, Chuck, just – wow." She was working the cover, he knew that, but it had been a sweet kiss with no holding back.

She gave him a sultry look and whispered, "Want to come in for a while?" And laughed at the look on his face – confused – but he chuckled when the irony hit him.

She unlocked the door and stepped in and turned around and grabbed him by the tie and pulled him across the threshold. "I could use another goodnight kiss, husband. Just one. Then I'm going to get into something comfortable while you start the fire."

The kiss was better than the last, each of them over their initial uncertainty. She slipped out of his arms and smiled and walked back to the bedroom to change and take off her makeup. She started to put on sweatpants but stopped putting on her boy shorts and a t-shirt.

'_He's seen them. I don't need to hide them from him.'_

She walked into the living room carrying pillows and blankets. "Your turn, Chuck."

He flashed her a shy smile when he saw her boy shorts and mentally chalked up a '1' in the win column. She wasn't hiding the scars from him. Progress.

Chuck showered and pulled on his sleep pants and t-shirt and wandered out into the kitchen and checked on the coffee. He wanted to stay awake longer than last night. He chuckled and walked into the living room.

"Assume the position, Chuck. C'mon, hurry up. The logs were damp and it's chilly here. Coffee's still brewing."

Chuck laid on his side against the back of the couch and Sarah formed herself against him. She reached back and grabbed his left hand and pulled it around her and rested it on the flat of her belly beneath her breasts. She tucked herself up against his other arm and sighed. Comfort, security and a warm fire. Perfect.

"You looked beautiful tonight. So relaxed and carefree. It was not the 'Sarah Walker' I knew from Burbank." It wasn't a criticism, just fact.

She twisted around and rested her head against his chest. "I'm not Sarah Walker anymore. I lost her someplace but I don't miss her. I like being Sarah Carmichael a lot more."

"How long do you think you'll be gone this time, Sarah? Did they give you any timeframes?"

"A minimum of 6 weeks, maybe more depending on how many operations they'll need to do, whether the skin grafts take hold, that sort of thing."

"If it hurts, just have them fix the ones that others can see. I don't like the thought of you being hurt and in pain. It makes me feel – hell, inadequate, useless, I guess."

"Don't feel that way. It wasn't your fault and you're right, therapy has already been easier now that these scars are out in the open and I don't have to hide them from you anymore."

"Good. You'll be back in the Big Show saving the world and taking down Fulcrum where you belong before you know it. Beckman would be a fool to waste a kickass Ninja spygirl like you on an asset for very long."

Sarah wriggled around his frame until she was face to face with him. Her voice never got louder than an intense whisper but that made it all the more effective.

"You listen to me, Chuck. You deserve the best protection the Agencies can provide. That's me, get it? I'm not going anywhere. I happen to like it here, right where I am at this very second. We're a team and we don't quit on each other. Got me?" She wiggled against him to emphasize her point.

"Chuck, I'll be back here, right here, just as soon as I can. I like it here. I like being here. I like being here with you. Do I have to draw you a frikkin' picture?" Control the mark. Cement the cover.

She squirmed back around and molded her back to his front, pulled his arm around her. He wished she would stay still. He was busy doing differentials in his head to keep distracted from the effect she was having on him.

"Do you miss it, Chuck?"

"Miss what? I don't understand the question." Damn! Now he'd lost the value of the Y variable and he'd have to start all over again.

"Do you miss Burbank and your life back there? Do you miss your sister and her boyfriend? Your bearded friend and the girl you flirted with at the deli?"

"Sometimes – sometimes I miss Ellie so bad it hurts but most times I don't even think about her. I haven't thought about Morgan in – in a long time and my 'flirting sandwich girl' was a figment of your imagination."

"But do you miss your life back there?"

"Nope. Not the job, anyway. I like Eden. I could spend the rest of my days here – seriously. I like teaching. The kids are a challenge and I have a challenging life outside of work."

"A challenging life?" Now she was curious. "What challenges are there here?"

"Well, you for one. You challenge me."

"Me? How? Is living here with me so difficult that you consider it a challenge, something to test yourself on?"

"I remember almost everything you ever told me and I definitely remember Spying's First Rule."

"And what's that, Chuck? I never told you anything about – oh, yeah, I guess I did. So why is that a challenge, Chuck? Things are different now. You're not Chuck Bartowski. I'm not Sarah Walker. Those rules don't apply in this situation."

"On paper we're two different people but in the 'organizational structure' we're no different – we're still handler & asset. It's gotten harder since you got back from the hospital. The challenge is harder because we're together as husband and wife. It was a lot easier when you were The Bitch. It was easy to dismiss you and concentrate on the problems at hand."

She elbowed him lightly in the stomach. "Be nice, Chuck. I'm trying here, really trying. I've never wanted to be 'nice' before because it wasn't something Bryce wanted me to be. He said I could be 'nice' to a mark."

She cringed when she said 'mark' remembering her abrupt ending to her therapy session.

'_Chuck is not a mark. He is not a means to an end. He's becoming the end, the goal.'_

"Yes, you're changing. You've changed and it's difficult for me now. I have to keep in mind what we are in real life when all I really want is what I have in the cover. A good job, a wife, a future."

He felt her relax when she realized what he'd meant. He could hear the wheels and gears turning in her mind, evaluating and looking at it from an agent's point of view.

"I wish you hadn't asked Beckman to schedule this surgery, Chuck. I don't want to leave now. I want to stay here, explore possibilities and maybe 'let my hair down' and have fun. I've been on the job without a break for a long time. I've forgotten how to be just a girl with a guy and not an agent with a partner and an agenda."

"Well, I promise to refresh your memory when you get back. If you can't remember, we'll start from scratch and you'll just learn all over again. Piece of cake, Sarah."

* * *

Chuck walked into the main office and nodded to the secretary and looked toward Dr. Moran's office. The secretary nodded and he went in, staying near the doorway since she was on the phone. When she saw him, she ended the conversation hastily and hung up.

"Mr. Carmichael, is anything wrong?" He wasn't hung over but wasn't exactly smiling and vibrating with enthusiasm.

"Sarah's going to be in the hospital getting some corrective surgery due to some injuries. She'll be gone about 6 weeks, maybe more. I have a 'special job' coming up and I just needed you to know I'll be 'sick' for a few days, no longer. Sorry to have interrupted your call."

* * *

The first week back from vacation was hectic for both the teachers and the students. The semester was ending soon and for the seniors, 'short timer' fever was setting in big-time. He had a list of students who had asked for letters of recommendation for college and he had a few juniors who were bugging him to tutor an Advanced Placement class in Physics.

He was almost too busy to think about her during the day but at night, after writing the letters and reviewing and grading papers, the worry set in.

They'd agreed not to try and contact each other. It wasn't required and it would just draw attention to them. O'Hara came by a couple of times as did Flynn and the others to have a beer or just shoot the shit. Chuck knew they were checking on the asset. It was their job.

He declined Maureen's offer of dinner but did drop by on the first Saturday to see how Liam was faring and to hoist a few during the last college football games on TV. Liam was 'gone' more often now and he could see the weight of her decision was pulling Maureen apart.

* * *

Chuck was sitting at home, trying to get interested in a movie on HBO but his mind was half a continent away in Langley, VA wondering how his 'wife' was doing, how she was handling the various surgeries and when she'd be back. He missed the simple companionship and kicked his ass mentally for severing his friendship with Maureen. He was a social animal and missed people.

He answered his cell on the third ring, habit and caution dictating that he identify the caller before answering.

"This is Chuck." He knew it was Casey and he didn't have a secure phone so he was very careful what he said.

"Chief O'Hara, Mr. Carmichael. One of your students was brought in tonight drunk and he asked us to call you. His Aunt Diane isn't answering the phone."

Translation: Leave now, NSA protective detail compromised or eliminated.

"OK. Give me some time to get cleaned up. Which student is it?"

"Doesn't matter. See me when you get here, Mr. Carmichael. Goodbye, moron."

Casey didn't give the mandatory closing phrase 'one of the jocks, who else?' and he was instantly on the move.

He locked the front door and pulled a cigar box out from underneath the firewood box. He took out a block of C-4 and stripped off the plastic wrapper and stuck it on the door just above the door knob and inserted a blasting cap into it.

'_It's about time the damned intersect provided __me__ with some assistance!'_

He flashed on the mercury detonator switch and saw the correct way to set it so it would work the way he imagined it would.

He pulled some sticky tape off a mercury switch and slapped it on the door frame and ran the wires from it to a battery and the blasting cap. When the door opened the switch would close and the circuit would be complete and someone would have a very bad day.

He ran back to his bedroom but stopped in the kitchen to turn on all the gas burners and open the oven door and turn it on. Jason Bourne had blown up someone's house in the movie using gas and he hoped it would blow up his as well, giving him time to make his escape.

He pulled down his 'run bag' and removed two 9mm pistols and tucked them into his waistband, closed the bag and grabbed his heavy coat and his cell phone and ran out the back door to the shed.

He threw open the door and pulled the tarp off his baby. When he first got to Eden, a guy delivered a '97 Chevy S-10 pickup that had seen better days. He told him that his Aunt Diane would pay for any customizing he felt needed to be done on it and that he was to devote all his spare time to getting it ready to ride the roads.

His first two requests probably raised a few eyebrows but the following Saturday an Army National Guard truck dropped off a large crate and several smaller crates. Subsequent deliveries were irregular depending on his needs and the time he spent on 'customizing it'.

He hopped behind the wheel and fired up the modified V-6 engine and grinned. _Road Trip!_

He took the pistols from his waistband and put one in the console between the seats and the other above the visor. If he needed to use them it meant he was probably toast.


	11. This is really Chapter 12

A/N: White blood count low so no Hemlock for a bit. Sorry about Nik's rant. She jus wuvs her widdle patient. That's so much for the well wishes. Not hanging the crepe on the door yet. Like Dejah Thoris says 'I still live'. Ah, pearls before swine...lol. seriously, thanks a lot.

APR

* * *

A Slip of the Tongue Chapter 12

The S-10 tore out into the driveway and out onto the highway. He pulled on a monocular night vision headband and killed the headlights. Two miles down the road he cringed in the flare of headlights just under the crest of the road ahead and pulled off the road and into the brush and shut everything down. It had taken him almost 20 minutes to make his escape and now he was afraid he'd taken too long.

Within 30 seconds the road was filled with three fast moving SUVs heading down the road to his house. Casey's warning had saved his life or at least given him a head start. He opened the glove box and took out the envelope that had been in there when it was delivered and tore it open.

_Mr. Bartowski – if you are reading this letter after receiving a 'bug out' message, follow the instructions exactly as written and you will find a safe haven at the end of your journey._

_Good luck._

_D. Beckman_

Chuck opened up the tailgate of the fiberglass camper shell and pulled out a crate and opened it. He ran out into the road and threw several objects down onto the road surface and then closed the tailgate and drove toward the interstate exit a few miles west of Eden.

Carmichael residence

Carmichael's car was parked in the driveway. He was still here.

None of the protective detail knew about Chuck's anti-boredom project and never checked the shed earlier. It was a bad move on their part.

The first squad of Fulcrum agents clustered quietly on the porch. They could hear the TV blaring and the leader slowly tried to open the door but it was locked. He signaled two of his men to break down the door. He grinned when the door flew into the house and then he and his squad collectively had a really bad day.

The house was partly filled with natural gas and the explosion ignited the gas and the house was instantly engulfed in flames.

Flynn picked himself off the driveway and swore. Half his team was dead and nothing was going right.

They'd waited for Carmichael to come roaring up the road but minutes passed without him responding to O'Hara's call so he decided to take the bastard in his home. The Eden city council would have to advertise for a new police chief. The last one had apparently shot himself while cleaning his weapon.

Flynn had eliminated the protective detail a few hours earlier. Fulcrum agents had the house and Bartowski under observation for the past week. When his CIA handler had been reassigned the plan to extract the intersect was moved forward and executed.

Flynn ordered the remainder of his team into their vehicles and they drove up the road figuring Carmichael would be on foot using the road. Another bad idea.

The first SUV hit the small anti-armor mine and exploded. The second one was hit when the remaining mines fratricided. Flynn's vehicle barely escaped with only minor damage but the front tire had been shredded and he lost valuable time mounting the spare.

Looking back at the sky lit red by the flames of Carmichael's house, Flynn knew he'd blown it and would himself be eliminated for his failure. As soon as the tire was mounted he shot the last member of his team and drove to the interstate. He was on the run from Fulcrum and the NSA.

* * *

Chuck broke protocol and called Casey's cell but got voicemail. Unsure of the situation, he called the General figuring her response would tell him if he'd just escaped Fulcrum or if Casey's call had been to warn him of an extraction team. He'd called him 'Moron' and Chuck knew it was to remind him of Burbank – but why?

"Mr. Carmichael, it's late. What is it?" She really wished he'd deal with his protective detail instead of jumping to her level in the chain of command.

"I just blew away a bunch of shooters after getting a warning call from O'Hara. The house is toast and I blew up two of the remaining three vehicles that are in pursuit. Casey is probably dead. What is _my_ status, General?"

"Shit! Are you injured? Are you secure in a vehicle? What's your status, Charles?" Her concern bled through her terse words. It had been Fulcrum.

"Moving per instructions. Intact. Estimate 18 hours to reach Safe Haven unless things have changed?"

"Follow procedure from now on. I'll have Agent Walker join you at Safe Haven with a new cover as soon as she's able. Be careful, Charles. Don't take any more foolish risks. Your instructions were to drop everything and run, not ambush the attackers. Safe Haven. Punch in the GPS coordinates and drive safely. Contact me when you arrive or if you encounter any difficulties. I would provide an escort but I'm not sure who has been compromised."

She hung up and began initiating clean up procedures and issuing extraction orders for John Casey if he was still alive. She debated calling Walker but opted to delay until Carmichael was safely within Safe Haven. She was surprised at how calm he'd been on the phone and how effective he was in fluid situations.

If Beckman wasn't sure 'who has been compromised' then the NSA was knee deep in poo. If Beckman could see her asset, she wouldn't be so positive he could make the trip unaided.

* * *

The magnitude of what he'd done, the desperate straits he found himself in and the General's uncertainty of the loyalty of her own agents all ended up hitting Chuck within seconds of one another.

He pulled into a rest stop and parked as far away from the interstate as he could manage. He was physically ill. He was trying not to barf up the pizza and beer he'd had right before Casey's call. Eden was supposed to be safe. Eden was where he was supposed to spend the rest of his life. There were definitely serpents in the apple trees of Eden.

He locked the truck doors and slipped back into the 'rear seat', folded himself up and tried to sleep for a few hours.

* * *

Chief Casey O'Hara was found by a deputy and rushed to the local hospital. The official report said that the Chief was injured by an accidental firearms discharge but unofficially everyone knew that someone had tried to kill O'Hara. You don't accidentally shoot yourself in the back.

The news about the Chief of Police was forced onto page 7 of the regional newspapers by front page news of the tragic death of a high school physics teacher in a house fire caused by a gas leak.

The initial reports were wrong especially when investigators found the burned bodies of 4 men in the debris, their automatic weapons but no identification. Someone took pictures with their cell phone cameras before police (FBI agents) sent them scurrying.

The two SUVs destroyed by mines were caught on film and by 6pm that evening the story was pieced together and made it to the networks. Before Beckman and her lawyers could intercede, the story made it to prime time network news.

* * *

Sarah Carmichael and her therapist and friend, Katherine, were sitting in Sarah's room talking 'off the record' about her future. The TV was on but the sound was turned down and Sarah glanced up and saw less than a second of a photograph of Charles Carmichael standing with several of his students.

"Quiet, Katherine! Turn up the sound!"

"…teacher from Eden, Missouri whose fate is unknown. Original reports were that Carmichael had perished in a fire in his home but that all changed when investigators discovered the bodies of four men armed with automatic weapons in the burned wreckage. To compound the mystery, two large SUVs with men and weapons had been destroyed by roadside bombs similar to those used by insurgents in Afghanistan and Iraq. None of the bodies found carried any identification."

The images of the two burned hulks being loaded onto flatbed trucks were startlingly familiar to those that watched the news from the Middle East.

Katherine glanced at Sarah who was sitting frozen with a look of horror on her face.

"Sarah, we don't know that he's dead. They haven't found his body and you said yourself he was pretty damned tricky. I'm sure the General has the situation under control. Let the doctor give you something to allow you to sleep and I promise I'll come back with as much information as I can."

* * *

He woke up cold, stiff and confused. The confusion abated and he crawled up into the driver's seat and started the truck cursing his lack of foresight and not putting blankets in his 'escape pod'. It only took a few minutes for the heater to begin blasting warm air into the cab and he began to feel human again.

He'd just decided that his first order of business was finding a diner and coffee when his cell phone chirped and he saw it was the General.

"Carmichael. Secure but cold and stiff. Good morning."

"Your face is all over the newspapers and the TV. Where are you?"

'_So much for coffee and food.'_

"About 100 miles east of Eden on the interstate. I pulled off and caught a little sleep and now I'm heading for Safe Haven. What's my status?"

"I'm sorry, Charles, but you're dead again, assuming the evidence we planted is interpreted correctly. You blew up your house?"

"I booby-trapped the front door and slipped out the back turning on the gas as I left. Yeah, I did. Cut down the odds, too."

"Indeed. Your wife is very concerned about you, Charles. I'd like you to call her and reassure her that you're alive and reasonably healthy. We'll have to develop a deeper cover for you and your handler. Major Casey is in the hospital. Apparently Agent Flynn was co-opted by Fulcrum. The entire watch team was murdered and he's unaccounted for. I'll be in touch in 6 hours. Contact your wife as soon as you can and then turn off your cell to conserve battery power."

H didn't miss the phrase 'you and your handler'. So much for change. He called Sarah immediately but got Katherine instead.

"I'd like to speak with Sarah Carmichael, please."

"Who's calling?"

"Who is this? Where is Sarah? What have you done with her?"

"Ah, the elusive Mr. Carmichael. Or should I call you Lazarus? I'm Katherine, her therapist and new best friend. She's asleep, Chuck, and I won't try to wake her. She's been sedated. The news broadcast really shook her up and she needed something to help her sleep."

"How are the operations going? Is she in pain? I asked her to only do the ones that others could see. I don't care about them but she does and it's not vanity. Tell her I'm fine and I'll try and call her once I know where I'm going. Beckman said Sarah would be joining me once she's recovered. She's going to bring a new cover for us."

"So are you OK? She's going to have a hundred questions but mostly she'll need reassured that you're safe and healthy."

"I'm in a lot better shape than those bastards that tried to take me. I'll be a lot better when she's out of there and we can pick up where we left off. Look, I'm losing the battery. I'll call…"

The battery died and he disconnected and swore. He should have put a cell phone charger in the truck. He never stopped to think about it. He should have. He'd have to risk finding a truck stop and buying one and using the cigarette light for power. He also needed gas and food and the men's room.

He pulled out of the rest stop and headed east toward Safe Haven.

* * *

When Sarah woke from her drugged sleep she was alone. It was still daylight and one of the things she missed was a plain ordinary clock. Her time sense was horribly skewed by the medications.

Katherine walked in with two cups of coffee and a grin. "Well, sleepy head, you missed the latest episode of _Celebrity Caller_."

"Huh? Celebrity…Chuck! Chuck called? Is he OK? Was he hurt? Where is he? Is he safe? Why didn't you wake me?"

"He's going to call back when his cell is recharged. He's on the road to a safe house Beckman set up when he first went to Eden. He's fine and uninjured, but I only got a few seconds of his status because the phone died. He did say that Beckman would be sending you to join him with a new cover and that, I paraphrase now, he'll be a lot better when you two can pick up where you left off. Something you want to share with the class, Sarah?"

"Nothing you don't already know or suspect. Any more updates from Eden or have his 15 minutes of fame expired or been pushed off the news with updates on Paris Hilton's sex tape or Britney's latest go-round with her ex?"

"The General has thrown the networks to the lawyers and the story basically has died although the very last update reported that a body had been tentatively identified as Chuck's after fire marshal's debris studies uncovered it. It's been 'sent to the capitol' for forensic examination."

"Good. Fewer people will be on the prowl for us. When did he say he would be calling back?"

"He didn't finish his last sentence. His cell died. He has to recharge it."

* * *

80 miles north of Atlanta

_Safe Haven? You have got to be shitting me!_ He stared at the GPS coordinates he'd read in the General's letter and then at his GPS unit. Yep. The numbers were the same. No I/O error. _This_ was Safe Haven?


	12. First of 3 Updates

A/N: I'm in a great mood so I'm going to send you THREE! Thanks for the positive reviews. And the PMs wishing me and Nik well. She's still cranky and I feel for her students! It's still frikkin' cold here and the winds off the lake leach the heat out of everything. Send me some Bayou Warmth! i'M SO FRIKKIN' BORED!

APR

* * *

A Slip of the Tongue Chapter 13

* * *

**Safe Haven**  
**Psychiatric Treatment Center**

That's what the sign on the stone wall surrounding the facility read. A nut house. What better cover than to hide a fugitive from public view than a psychiatric facility? He would have laughed if he weren't so damned tired.

He'd promised Katherine that he would call Sarah just as soon as he recharged his phone but the three places he stopped at either didn't have chargers or they weren't compatible. He'd need to get his phone on a charger or borrow someone's. He really wanted to hear her voice.

He drove up to the barred gates and leaned over and pushed a button on a call box and waited. A minute later he pushed it again and held it down for a few seconds.

"This is a restricted facility and only those who have registered in advance can gain access to visit patients or consult with therapists. State your name and the patient or doctor or therapist you wish to visit."

Well, at least they didn't say '_por Espanol, marque dos_' or something like it. Computerized security?

"Charles Carmichael." He didn't have a doctor or a therapist and he certainly wasn't a patient. He got an unexpected automated response.

"There is no _Charles Carmichael_ in residence. There is no physician or therapist named _Charles Carmichael._ Please get out of your vehicle and stand beside it. An attendant will be with you shortly."

The damned computer replayed his own voice when it repeated his name. He sighed and then got out of his truck but he left it running and the door open in case he needed to make a quick exit.

He unconsciously adopted a stance that would allow him easy access to the 9mm pistol tucked into the waistband of his jeans under his coat. If he had seen a picture of himself at that moment he would have recognized his stance as one he'd seen Casey adopt too many times back in Burbank and immediately afterwards bad things would happen.

A well-dressed man pulled up to the barred iron gate and stepped out of the golf cart and looked him up and down. He took in the truck and his visitor with a single appraising glance and then opened a clipboard notebook and looked over some documents.

"What was your girlfriend's name in college?"

"Jill." Verification. Maybe he was in the right place after all. Security seemed tight.

"What is your wife's middle name?"

"I don't know. She uses her maiden name as her middle name." A long shot. He didn't know his wife's middle name. Hell, he didn't know if she _had_ a middle name or if _Sarah_ really was her name.

The man nodded and then looked to the side and made a sign with his hand.

"Get in your truck and follow me. Do not attempt to leave the vehicle when we stop. Remain inside with the windows up. Do not attempt to leave the roadway. The grounds are mined."

He got back into his truck and waited while the large doors retracted into the walls like pole doors in some elegant drawing room. The golf cart had a strobe light attached to a long pole and it began to pulse and flash in a bright blue color.

Chuck followed the gold cart down the lane and then they took a side lane that turned sharply to the left into a grove of pine trees perhaps 100 yards thick. The man stopped the golf cart and walked back to Chuck's truck and gestured for him to wind down the window. He was startled to see the muzzle of a jeep-mounted recoiless rifle pointed right at him; it was poorly hidden in the trees.

"Follow this road for another 30 yards and stop your truck where you see the road barrier. Turn off your vehicle but do not leave the truck. Oh, yeah, welcome to Safe Haven, Carmichael. You're late and the General has been calling since early this afternoon and wants an immediate conference call. You've been a _baaad boy_."

Chuck pulled ahead and followed the road for another 50 yards and stopped where the road was blocked by a simple barber pole barrier with an unattended guard shack.

He turned off his truck and took out his pistol and set it on the seat beside him. Suddenly the road underneath him seemed to bounce and then a section of the road began sinking into the ground. It took him 2 seconds to realize he was on some sort of elevator. He looked around but all he saw were unlighted concrete walls that faded into darkness as the light from above dwindled.

The elevator suddenly stopped and it was pitch black. He almost turned on the headlights but remembered his instructions so he just sat quietly and waited. A loudspeaker somewhere instructed him to leave any weapons in the vehicle and to get out with his hands above his head.

Lights flickered and then came on full and he saw several men in blue coveralls and automatic weapons standing in a rough circle around him. Someone grabbed him from behind and spun him around and did a quick frisk and then he was led away into a darkened corridor and shoved into a room or cell, he didn't know which. The door closed with a thud and he heard a magnetic lock engage with a loud 'clack'.

It was dark as the inside of a well digger's ass wherever he'd been shoved. He felt around on either side of the door for a light switch without any luck. The door was locked. He groped across the room, barking his chin painfully on a chair and he sat down to wait for whatever came next.

He let his mind go blank and figured 'screw 'em' and dozed off but was awakened by a trivial memory, something Beckman had said to him when this nightmare began.

'_There won't be another option other than a secure facility if you can't adapt or if your cover fails and you're exposed again_.'

'_Safe Haven my ass! I'm in a bunker! I'll bet they never told Sarah I called. They probably told her that I was dead and now she'll be reassigned and she'll never know that I…'_

He put his head on his arms on the table and slept. There was nothing else to do and he was dead tired. He'd figure out what to do next when he didn't feel so damned tired.

* * *

Control room

Two men sat and watched a special monitor and observed their newest guest. One, a psychiatrist, watched and took notes, chuckling when the subject sighed and put his head down and slept. He expected a different reaction after reading the subject's file. '_Interesting'._ He was not privy to the events in Eden or to his special talent. To him, he was just another poor bastard who'd seen, heard or knew about something and could no longer be in society.

The other observer, an agent, also noted the reaction but had paid more attention to the subject's initial moves. He smiled when the man in the monitor seemed to reach a mental decision, shrug mental shoulders and then sleep. Considering the man's actions in Eden, he expected nothing less than what he'd observed. He made notes to have the vehicle searched carefully and cautiously. This one liked surprises.

* * *

He had no idea how long he'd been asleep. He awoke to find himself in a brightly lit conference room with a huge flat screen monitor dominating the narrower wall of the 10X20 room. He drank two glasses of water from an ice-cold pitcher and then walked around to loosen stiff muscles.

'_Either I slept for only a few minutes or my keepers came in, placed the water and glasses, and then slipped out again.'_

He sat back down and waited. And waited. He had no way of judging time and he wondered if this was deliberate or if they'd forgotten about him or just didn't give a damn.

He heard a chime and the lights dimmed and General Beckman's unsmiling face appeared without the usual NSA logo fanfare.

"Good day, Mr. Carmichael. Welcome to Safe Haven. I understand that you were unable to contact Agent Walker as promised due to technical problems beyond your control. We'll arrange for you to have a cell phone and you can make your apologies to her and explain why you blew up her home." The eyes crinkled but she still didn't smile.

"Now, on to business. After this conference ends, you will sit down and be debriefed regarding the events in Eden."

She looked at Chuck, really looked at him. He looked tired and…defeated.

"Charles, do you understand what I'm saying?"

"Yes, General. A detailed debriefing of the events in Eden."

"Do you know where you are and why?" Time to get it on the table.

"I'm in Safe Haven, a maximum security holding area for individuals who cannot be allowed any access to the general public. You weren't kidding when you said there wouldn't be another option other than a secure facility if my cover failed." He'd accessed the intersect.

Now it was the General's turn to look uncomfortable. She had said that, almost word for word.

"Yes, that's almost exactly what I said but these are different circumstances and you did nothing to cause the security breach. By the way, Flynn escaped. So far as we can determine, he flipped to Fulcrum."

"I don't know if any of his team were in the group that attacked the house or were in the SUVs I might have gotten with the road mines. I was long gone when I heard the explosions."

"Your booby trap – how did you conceive of such a thing and where did you get the explosives?"

"I saw something like it in a movie but I had better materials. I ordered the explosives and detonators and mines under the blanket' purchase order' you gave me for the truck upgrade. I figured Casey liked blowing things up and they might come in handy on a mission or something."

"Major Casey was shot by Flynn and is in stable condition in a local hospital still under his cover. He's worried about the 'moron'. He may be rejoining Team Intersect if his recovery continues."

"I'm sorry I didn't get to finish the semester. I hope whoever takes over is fair in grading my students. They are good kids. Dr. Moran won't miss me. She'll have a real teacher even though it'll come out of her budget."

"Your memorial service was well-attended and very emotional. I think Dr. Moran 'had the hots' for Mr. Carmichael." Chuck blushed and the General gave a brief smile before continuing.

"Now, your stay here will involve additional training, both physical and technical but you will be allowed unlimited access to your cell phone so you and Walker can stay in touch. The world in general thinks you're dead and unfortunately you'll have to develop a new cover. When Agent Walker is released, she'll join you with the cover details."

"So 'Agent Carmichael's widow' is out of the picture? I'm single again?"

"That's up to you and Agent Walker, don't you think, Charles? Actually, we'll legally bind the two of you together again once we've developed a new cover. Marriage seems to be good for the both of you."

Now he saw a definite twinkle in the General's eye. '_Why the old __'yenta'.'_

"If you have no further questions, I'll let the staff know you're ready for your debriefing. Your training will be difficult but nothing you can't handle. Oh, one further question: Why did you place a self-destruct bomb in the truck?"

"I wasn't going to be taken. It seemed the logical thing. I don't think I have the balls to shoot myself but I certainly could push a button on the dash board. I'm good at pushing buttons. Just ask Major Casey."

The General seemed to hesitate but then chuckled briefly.

"I'm sure he'd agree with you. Enjoy your stay. Intel reports and dailies will be available beginning tomorrow." The screen blanked out and within seconds the conference room door opened and two men entered and took seats across from him.

* * *

APR


	13. Second of 3 Updates

A/N: 2nd chapter as promised. I'm such a nice guy!

* * *

A Slip of the Tongue – Chapter 14

Two men in jumpsuits entered the room within seconds of the end of the general's conference.

"I'm Mr. Smith and this is Dr. Jones. You'll continue using Carmichael. This debriefing is being recorded for analysis. Let's start with that high-powered piece of crap you drove out of Eden…"

The briefing went on for several hours. The psychiatrist (although he denied it) took notes but said very little. The agent offered few comments and only asked questions to expand on things Chuck had said. It was very thorough and tiring.

"That's it. Welcome to Safe Haven. Someone will be along in a while to take you on a tour, show you your rooms and then the cafeteria. Is there anything you need right now, Mr. Carmichael?"

"The john and a cell phone. I need to contact my wife."

Smith slid a cell phone across the conference room table and told him 'speed dial one, of course' and then the two of them left Chuck sitting alone.

He had no idea what time it was. He pushed speed dial #1 and it rang several times before being answered.

"Hello, Chuck, it's Katherine. Sarah will be with you shortly. She's ah, indisposed at the moment. So, how are they treating you? Enjoying the amenities?"

"So far I've been dumped in a dark room, debriefed and now I'm waiting on a tour guide who hopefully will show me the men's room first. How is she, Katherine? Is she in pain? I wish she'd listen and just get the worst of them fixed. Hell, I don't care about them. They're not who she is."

"She's fine but will be really fine once she talks to you. The schedule for her surgeries has been compressed because of what happened in Eden. Everyone wants you two back in the game. Oh, Major Casey is doing well and should make a full recovery. Here she is." She handed Sarah the cell phone and slipped out of the room to give her privacy.

"Hello, Chuck?"

"Hey, baby, how are you doing? I wish you'd just concentrate on the ones that you think people will see and let the others – let them be. I hate that you're going through all this."

'_He called me baby!'_

"We'll get to me, tell me all about your adventure. I just caught the tail end of a news brief and I was so scared, Chuck. Katherine told me you called but I was in druggie-heaven – I freaked out and they – they shot me up with something. I'm so sorry I missed your call."

"I blew it. I forgot to include a cell phone charger in the truck and my cell died and I couldn't find a compatible charger but was afraid to stop too many times since I made the news. I'm really sorry about blowing up your house, Sarah."

She laughed and thought it was so typical of him to feel bad about something he had to do. There was nothing there that couldn't be replaced – except him.

"Well, we'll just have to find another secluded cottage but it has to have a fireplace. That's my only requirement, honey, a fireplace."

"Beckman says since I'm dead and you're a widow, that we're not married anymore, Sarah. God, that sounds so lame! Carmichael's dead and you're his widow. I guess it's back to handler/asset. I was getting used to husband and wife."

"So was I. I really liked being Sarah Carmichael." _'Damn it – handler/asset is not what I want. I'll need to ask Beckman about the cover. With my luck, she'll make us brother and sister!'_

"I asked Beckman and she said being married was up to you and me, Sarah. That's what she said, anyhow. I guess we'll have to see what cover we get."

"Chuck, I won't be out of here for 5 weeks and then you and I are going to have a long and detailed discussion about our status, dead husband. I definitely don't like the 'widow Carmichael' title. We'll have to see about changing it. So, are you OK? Are they treating you all right?"

"Yeah, so far, so good. Beckman says there's a lot of training and physical stuff so I won't be bored. She's sending intel reports and dailies to keep me occupied. She knows that I bore easily and she's probably afraid I'll destroy her bunker complex."

"Do you know where you are, Chuck? Wait! You said 'bunker'! Are you restricted? Can you leave if you want?"

"I can leave after you get here. You're bringing our new cover and all the other information. I'll see you in 5 weeks. Don't rush things, Sarah. You look just fine to me. I have to go. The escort is here. I'll call you when I can. Bye, Sarah."

* * *

"Are you ready for the grand tour, Agent Carmichael?"

The 'tour guide' was a 30-something blonde with a nice smile and green eyes. She wore a tailored blue jumpsuit with her name 'Mallory' emblazoned on a name tag. The tag was light yellow and he wondered about the significance of colored tags. Smith had a white tag and Jones had a red tag but both their tags were blank.

"Lead on, and it's just Carmichael. I'm not an agent, just a low-born asset. But for the love of God, point me to a men's room!"

She looked over at him and smirked. '_Sure ya are, Carmichael. No one gets the Grand Tour and a white tag but agents.'_

She pointed him to a sign on a door that said 'MEN' and then waited until he returned. He looked a lot more comfortable without all the fidgeting. He was cute but definitely out of her league. There was no point in pursuing anything with one of _them._

"Once we're done with the familiarization tour, we'll get you fitted out with jumpsuits and a tag. Everyone here wears the jumpers since they're easily cleaned, recycled daily with fresh ones placed in your locker every day. Just remember to take off your tag before shoving it in the recycler chute or you won't be able to enter certain areas that wearing the tag allows."

They walked through areas that Chuck noted were 'color-coded' if the stripes painted along the corridor walls were access colors. They stopped at a corridor that had a glass partition with a guard behind it.

"This is 'white access' only. I can't take you in there. That's where your rooms are. Let's hit the cafeteria since I know you haven't eaten in a while. It's open 24/7 since we all have different schedules. They make mean 3am cheeseburgers if you get the munchies. I'll bring you back here after we eat."

"I lost my watch so I have no idea of the time. Or the date."

"That's why you special characters get cell phones. Check the display."

* * *

Sarah Walker slept fitfully, afraid that her nascent relationship with her asset was heading for rocky shoals. Beckman's plots within plots would strain the strongest couple but might shatter one as new and undefined as they were.

'_A couple? Are we a couple? I'm his handler, his Guardian Angel. We can't be a couple.' _She nervously fingered the pendant around her neck. She wanted to be more than his handler now.

* * *

Chuck's days were full. He spent time on the intel reports and the intel dailies summarized at NSA HQ and completed brief reports on anything on interest. On several occasions he received highly classified documents by armed courier who stood outside his rooms and then took the numbered documents from him and added his findings to his stack and departed – usually without a word.

He had no time at all to be bored. When he wasn't completing intel briefs for the General he was attending briefings, classes, demonstrations and practicing his classroom lessons.

Physical conditioning kicked his ass and he went from dinner to bed almost every night except when he called Sarah to get a status report, just BS with her and listen to her comments about his training and his results.

"So you're getting buff, huh? Will I even recognize you?"

"I don't know, Sarah, it's been a long time since we've seen each other and I've changed a lot. I'm taller, have blue eyes now, my hair is a much lighter brown and the implants in my chin and cheeks have altered the way my face looks. I have to shave with my eyes closed most times. It's so damned shocking."

"What? Blue eyes? How can you be taller? You were 6'2" when I left and what implants?"

"Gotcha!"

"That was mean, Chuck. I am going to rethink this 'arrangment' of ours. I had enough 'mean' with Bryce and I don't need a replacement."

She was teasing him but he thought she was serious. She hadn't realized how serious her tone of voice was and how attuned Chuck had become to her moods and he knew how much she hated Bryce Larkin.

"That's your call, Agent. I feel certain that the General will consider your personal feelings regarding future assignments. I'm sure you're tired. I'll let you get some rest. Good night."

He disconnected the call and the cell phone shattered against the cement wall of his living area. He thoroughly pissed at himself for teasing her. He'd forgotten her comments about Bryce's behavior in the past and now he'd behaved exactly like that asshole had. He had screwed up. She'd put him in the same box as her torturer.

Sarah tried calling him back but it went to a voicemail recording and then disconnected. She tried several times over the course of the evening with the same results. She had no idea what he was thinking and now he was refusing her calls.

* * *

Chuck was issued a new cell with the admonition to 'keep your temper in check, Carmichael. These things are expensive'. He had the same number but turned the phone off. No one was going to call him anyway.

He threw himself into his training, pushing himself to his physical limits and beyond. Each night he showered in hot water to relieve the ache and tension and collapsed into bed, exhausted and hoping to avoid any dreams.

* * *

Two weeks. Two weeks since she'd reacted badly to his teasing, thrown Larkin in his face and said she was going to rethink their arrangement.

He hadn't spoken to anyone other than his instructors and the occasional polite comment to a person in the cafeteria. He kept to himself and buried himself in his training and work.

"Katherine, it's been two weeks and he won't answer his damned cell phone. It goes straight to voice mail. I screwed up and it's my own damned fault. What am I going to do? I need to apologize. I threw Larkin in his face but it was just a joke but I know now that he thought I was serious about going to Beckman."

"Maybe it's for the best. You're a top of the line agent and you're needed in the field, not spending your career babysitting an asset. I'm sure the General will understand and give you a prime assignment."

"It's not for the best and you damned well know it. You know how I feel about him and no one can guard him better. You're not cleared for what's in his head, Katherine. He needs me even if he thinks I don't want him."

"Well, you've only got another few weeks and then you'll be able to tell him the truth. That's not so long, is it?"

Katherine was a meddler and also an excellent therapist who cared about her patients. She found Chuck's cell number in Sarah's phone while she slept and started making calls until she found out who had requested and been issued that cell number. From there she simply called him and explained the situation, the players, and was told 'gimme an hour and I'll have that sumbitch on the phone begging forgiveness'.

"No, that's not what I want. I want you to find out 'why' he's not answering and then correct the situation if it's technical. I got a patient in trouble and I'm not abandoning her to the system."

"Fine, Kat. I owe you. I'll have Car – uh, the guy call her and make nice."

"Hey, just fix the damned phone!" Jesus, he was the most stubborn….


	14. Last of 3 Updates

A/N: Third and last one for a while. Bored but tired. Too much excitement in my life.

APR

* * *

A Slip of the Tongue Chapter 15

Chuck was sitting in the cafeteria eating something they laughingly called 'meat loaf w/tomato sauce' on the menu and thinking about his latest report to the general. He hated loose ends and he'd found several that could not be tied to anything else except each other and that had painted an ugly picture in his mind. The Syrians were stirring up trouble, plotting with Hezbollah and the Hamas groups against, who else, Israel.

"Carmichael!" He looked up at the scowling face of 'Agent Smith'.

"Yes, Agent Smith? What's up?"

"Give me your cell phone."

He handed over his cell phone and watched as the senior agent fiddled with some keys, frowned, fiddled some more, frowned some more and then told him that if he turned his phone off again he'd rip off his head and shit down his neck.

"Here, answer it. I better not get another call from – from someone so high up the food chain there's no oxygen - that you turned off your damned cell phone!"

"Hello?" There were no numbers in the display showing what number had been dialed. That was weird. He knew the iPhone inside out and it wasn't supposed to be able to do that.

"You listen to me, Chuck Bartowski, and you listen good! I'm sorry. You were teasing me and I teased you back but you didn't know that and thought I was serious. Damn it! Don't throw me away just because I pissed you off! I want us to be just like we were in Eden. That place will always be special. Please say something! You are _so stubborn!"_

"I don't know what you want me to say, Agent Walker."

Eden had been paradise for a short while until the serpent came to town. He'd been happier there than anywhere else, including Burbank. It was like – getting a clean slate and starting over.

"I want you to say you forgive me and that you want me by your side in your cover. That's what I want you to say because that's all I want to hear – that you want us to be together. Jesus, Chuck, do I have to draw you a picture here? You, me, together? I thought you were supposed to be some frikkin' genius?"

"Not where women are concerned. I can't figure 'em out. I guess I need to get out more and practice."

"Not more practice – no. You just need to stick with one woman, learn all about her and then – stick with her. Now, I get out of here in a few weeks or so and then I have a re-evaluation and I have to spend time going over the proposed cover looking for holes and things that won't meet our needs and our capabilities. But I want to hear you say it, Chuck, please? Please say it."

"I want us to be together like we were in Eden. It'll be a fresh start for both of us. But don't call me Bartowski again." There was iron in his voice. _'Christ, what do they have her on?'_

"At last. No handler/asset stuff. That just gets in the way of a good team dynamic. Just Chuck and Sarah. Agreed? Chuck? Damn it, say something!"

"Bartowski's dead. Carmichael's an endangered species. I guess I'll see you if and when you get here."

He disconnected from the call and waited for the display to clear but it didn't. He popped the back off and pulled out the battery, counted to 5 and then replaced the battery and turned the phone on. It started ringing and there was no number in the display.

Sarah was smiling as was Katherine. Maybe forcing his hand was the best approach. Smith had certainly done some work on Carmichael's phone since it called Sarah's almost immediately.

She listened while Sarah almost begged Carmichael to take her back and understand that he'd misunderstood her. The results were obviously positive if the look of delight on Walker's face was any indication.

"So, crisis averted? Asset in place and ready for handling?" She'd wiggled her eyebrows on 'ready for handling' to show Sarah she was kidding.

Whatever she was going to say died unspoken when her cell rang again and again it was Carmichael. She immediately assumed the worst and answered almost in desperation.

"What? Don't you dare tell me you've reconsidered and now you've changed your mind? Chuck, please, I – I love you, damn it, and you can't just cut me out of your life like – "

Sitting in the room, Katherine's eyebrows almost disappeared into her auburn hair. '_A declaration of love – pretty heavy for a phone call.'_

"The phone will only dial your number. It dials it when it's turned on, automatically. I haven't changed my mind. Gotta go though. I have a class and need to find that asshole and find out what he did to my phone. See ya."

"Ha! His phone will only dial my number. I should have thought of that a year ago."

"Sarah, did you hear what you said to him?"

He hung up and started to take the tray to the trash – what? _She loved him_?

Oh, no, not that! No way was she going to pull that one on him. He'd learned enough here about how things really worked in Spy-World and no way was she pulling that crap on him!

_Unless she meant it?_

He turned the phone on and she answered. She sounded very happy.

"Again, Chuck? What is it this time?" There was laughter in her voice.

"Did you mean it? Did you mean what you said?" His tone of voice was deadly serious and demanding.

"Did I mean what? She was still focusing on the fact that he called her back again.

Katherine was gesturing frantically, trying to get Sarah's attention but she turned her head and ignored her and concentrated on the call.

"Don't play dumb with me. Did you mean what you said or was it just more of your brand of 'teasing' or a way of getting my attention? Well, you have my undivided attention Agent Sarah Walker. Did – You – Mean – It? I won't be played or handled any longer. Answer me, damn it!"

"Chuck, I have no idea what you're talking about. I want to be with you just like in Eden…"

"Just like in Eden? That's what I thought." He hung up the phone and turned it off by pulling the battery out. _' No more._'

He was standing near the trash and had just cleared his tray when he saw Agent Smith sitting at a table near the entrance, alone.

Katherine just shook her head. Ready, fire, aim. For someone who was supposed to be one of the best and brightest, Walker could be dense and uninvolved in her own conversations some time.

"Fix my damned phone, Agent Smith." He handed him the phone.

"I have no idea what you're talking about, Carmichael." The smirk was there. That spy smirk that said '_you've been played – how does it feel_?'

He snatched the phone back and threw it against the wall behind Smith and it shattered into a million pieces.

"Never mind. I fixed it."

Smith watched Carmichael stalk down the corridor and then he got up and walked out into the corridor, dialing his own intact phone.

"Hey, that was quick. He called…"

"We're even now, Kat. I don't owe you squat. I don't know what kind of op you're running against young Carmichael but it has to stop, understand me? He's a good kid and he's really coming along but hold off on the mind games until after he's out of here, OK? That's the second phone he's trashed and I'm not giving him another until he's ready to take on his cover so don't even bother trying to call him. You and I – we're even."

He disconnected and checked Carmichael's schedule and followed him to the training room. He was just glad Carmichael wasn't scheduled for small arms qualifications.

Katherine walked back into Sarah's room and wasn't surprised to see her sitting on the side of the bed staring at her phone in dismay and disbelief.

"So do you want me to tell you what's going on, Sarah?" Sarah looked up at her friend with pain in her eyes.

"Yeah, Kat, because I sure as hell don't understand it. He calls and I apologize and explain everything and we're fine. He hangs up and he calls again because that's all his phone will do, call me. We talked and he had to leave for a class and then he calls again, sounding really – pissed and deadly serious about something– and demands to know if I 'really meant it'. What could have happened in 15 seconds, Kat?"

"You get on a verbal roll, Sarah, and you say exactly what's on your mind and that's fine – in therapy – but not so good when you are talking to someone who listens to every word and weighs it to see if he's being 'played'. Sarah, you told him you loved him and I'll bet the last call was for you to repeat it, right? To tell him again but you couldn't because you didn't even know you'd said it."

"Oh, crap, no – no – I didn't say that to him did I?"

"What? Didn't you mean it? _Are__ you playing him, Agent Walker?_" Her friend the therapist was suddenly not so friendly.

* * *

APR


	15. Chapter 15

A/N: Some people questioned Chuck's feelings re 'being played' and I think a little too much of the 3 J's and my own situation way back then bled through. Remember, Nik wasn't even a glimmer on the horizon back then. i don't do rewrites so read it or abandon it - your choice.

BTW, thanks for all the reviews ans suggestions and insights. Some of you are pretty cool with the comments although you really need to cut back on the Schedule IV goodies.

APR

* * *

A Slip of the Tongue – Chapter 16

"Yeah, I meant it. I do love him. It's crazy but it's true and I just realized it and blurted it out like some brain fart and he didn't believe me and wanted me to say it again, to validate it in his mind and I didn't and he – "

Katherine knew that all the therapy in the world wasn't going to make this situation right. It was just a slip of the tongue but it made an enormous impact. She couldn't call him – even if he was able to answer, he wouldn't, not in his current state of mind. She was going to break so many rules in the next 10 minutes that she'd probably lose her job but, what the hell, she was ready to retire and set up a cushy private practice anyway.

"Sarah, how are you feeling right this minute. Can you –"

"Could you stop it with the 'Dr. Phil' attitude? Enough of this touchy-feely crap! I've just ruined my life! He'll get to Beckman somehow and demand a different handler and he'll disappear into the woodwork and I'll never ever find him again."

"No, Agent Walker, I meant do you feel well enough to wear slacks and a blouse? The grafts are doing fine but the abrading couldn't have been easy. Can you bear the touch of clothing against your legs and stomach?"

"Yeah. I can handle it. Why?"

"Because you're going to Hell and I'm pushing your wheelchair. Get dressed and get in the chair and let's move. Leave the slippers on. You won't be walking anyhow."

* * *

They took the elevator to the first floor lobby and she pushed Sarah across the lobby to a steel fire door that had a sign that said 'storage'. Katherine dug around in her purse and pulled out a swipe card and swiped the reader and opened the door and pushed Sarah down a long narrow hallway until they came to an elevator. There was only one button and she pushed it.

"Where are we going, Katherine?" The door opened and she pushed Sarah in and turned her around to face the doors. She swiped her card again in a reader and pushed the single button on the panel and the doors closed and the lights dimmed and Sarah could feel her stomach 'float' as the elevator dropped rapidly down to its destination.

"I told you – Hell. You've got about an hour to make this right before someone figures out that I broke a bunch of rules and took an unauthorized agent into the Pit and all kinds of hell break loose."

* * *

Agent Smith followed Chuck at a distance and stopped at the double doors to the gym. He waited until Carmichael's instructor started on the day's instructional block before slipping in and standing back out of sight.

Today was Carmichael's day in ring.

It wasn't really a ring, just a couple layers of exercise mats laid out. The objective was to survive 3 minutes against 2 opponents without being knocked out of the ring. It wasn't all that dangerous although one agent did die of cerebral hemorrhage when his much larger opponent tossed him out of the ring and past the protection of the mats.

Smith knew that Carmichael could probably handle one opponent but would fail with two. Most did because they waited to defend allowing their attackers to double-team them. Carmichael would lose focus and lose the match, not that it mattered. No one was flunking out of this training.

They wore sparring gloves, headgear, mouth guards, chest pads and groin protectors but that left a lot of surface area open to damage.

His two opponents were short and muscular, looking for a fight and full of piss and vinegar. Carmichael just stood in the lower half of the ring flat-footed with his arms at his sides. Smith had a bad feeling about this.

The two attackers looked at each other, confabbed for a bit and then took up positions so that, if the three fighters were joined by lines, they'd form a perfect equilateral triangle. At a nod from the one opponent, both screamed their war cries and ran toward a seemingly unfocused victim.

Smith almost missed it. He heard a gasp from behind him and was in the process of turning when Carmichael dropped to the floor in a squat and the two fighters literally ran out of the ring – a technical defeat. Carmichael walked to the center of the ring with his back to his two pissed-off opponents and assumed the same 'I don't care' posture and attitude, waiting for the agent in charge to make up his mind on whether to continue.

"Training will continue. Assume positions and fight." The agent had decided that since no one was touched, it didn't count as a sparring match.

"Well, _Agents_, how does it feel? How does it feel to know that you've been played and that this little farce of ours is coming to its proper ending?"

The two training agents had been surprised at his actions. He was an asseet and was supposed to be bounced around, humbled, shown his place, taught the subtle lesson that might makes right – nothing overly damaging, just painful so that he'd retain the lesson and learn from it.

Chuck turned and faced them. He squatted down on his haunches with his elbows on his knees and his chin in his gloved hands looking like he was bored with the whole thing.

The two charged again but this time Chuck launched himself like an offensive lineman at the larger and closer of the two when they were a body length apart. He elbowed him viciously in the face, breaking bones and teeth, knocking him unconscious and continuing on to the edge of the mat.

He stopped and pivoted and then attacked his remaining opponent, shooting a left jab at his head and, stepping behind his leg. He planted his right foot behind the man's ankle and shoved him down with a right forearm to the chest. Chuck knelt on the stunned man's throat until two supervising agents pulled him off.

He was still in a rage and was looking for someone to hurt, for someone he could make feel like he did. "Who's next? Which one of you backstabbing, low-life, lying mother fucking _Agents _wants a piece of an asset who won't roll over for you?"

"Oh, shit." Smith turned quickly at the words and saw _his_ former therapist and a woman in a wheelchair. The blonde had just uttered exactly what he was thinking.

"You're not supposed to be down here in the bowels, agents. You know I'll have to…" He stopped when he saw the look on Katherine's face and her nod at Sarah and another at Chuck.

"Ah, what the hell…" said Smith in a resigned voice. "I suppose it's OK this once." He watched as Carmichael stripped off his sparing gloves and other equipment and walked out into a service corridor unchallenged since no one wanted to mess with a homicidal maniac.

* * *

Sarah wheeled herself down the corridor in hot pursuit. "Hey!" she called out. "Stop where you are, Carmichael. We're not nearly done yet."

He turned, almost speechless. "Agent Walker, what the hell? How did you get here? We're nowhere near Langley. When did you get here?" He hadn't approached her but then again he hadn't sprinted away either.

"I've always been here, just up there," pointing to the ceiling and meaning a lot farther, "and I had no idea you were this close to me all this time. Let me talk, Chuck, and please listen."

He folded his arms across his sweat-stained t-shirt and stood, waiting for her to initiate an action recommended by whatever page out of the Honey Trap Manual on Asset Control she felt was applicable to the situation. His body language screamed out '_I am done with you_'.

"Damn, you look good, Chuck. Really good." He had gained weight and redistributed some. Nothing to warrant her salivating and licking her lips.

'_Exaggeration thy name is Walker_.'

"I blurted out something over the phone, a brain fart, and I didn't even realize I'd said it until Katherine told me I did. That's why I couldn't answer you on your third call. I didn't realize I'd said it. I was on a roll and didn't pay attention to my mouth. It happens when I see something I want slipping away."

"Did you mean it or was it something to say to grab my attention while you made your point? Don't handle me! No one handles me anymore. I've earned the right not to be handled or treated like a mark."

"Yeah, I got that from your little exhibition in the sparring room."

"The Mouse that Roared…funny movie…not so funny in real life though, is it?"

"OK, yeah, I – I – _do_ love you. I don't know how it happened, I don't know why it happened, I'm just glad that it did happen. Yes, Charles, I love you. I want to lie with you on a couch and feel the heat from the fireplace on my face and your warm breath on my neck – just like Eden but someplace where we'll be other people and like you said, where we'll be able to start over with a clean slate. What do you say, Chuck?"

"What happens when you get bored? What happens when Beckman decides that leaving me in the shadows and doing research instead of in the field is the course to follow. What then? Will the house, apartment or condo become your prison? Will you begin to resent me, begrudge me the life like we had in Eden? Will The Bitch make a guest appearance? Is loving me enough? Or will you take on 'short independent missions' that get longer and longer until one day you don't bother coming back?"

His voice was near shouting level and he'd unconsciously been edging toward her during his rant.

"Chuck, I – " She didn't know how to answer him. She hadn't thought much past just being together.

"Go back into the sunlight, get better, design the cover and talk to Beckman. I'll be waiting here. If you decide you can't do it, I'm sure Beckman will find someone else to fill the role. So go back and get well. I hope to see you soon, but if I don't, be well, be safe and be happy."

He kissed her but pulled away when she tried to deepen the kiss. He walked away and Sarah knew exactly what he was thinking. He didn't expect her to come back to him at the end of her convalescence. That had been a goodbye kiss.

She spun her chair around and wheeled herself back to find Katherine and get back where she belonged. He'd asked reasonable questions and she owed it to herself and to them to answer them honestly. He would never accept anything less from her.

Yeah, she lived for her job. She loved the thrill of the hunt, the almost sexual moment of the kill and the afterglow of a mission. She was like a thoroughbred racehorse when it's in the gate and waits to hear the starter's bell, nerves taut with anticipation, awaiting release so she could run. She loved living on the edge but now had to ask herself – could she step back? Could she _stay back?_

Was loving a man and being loved in return enough for her? Reasonable questions with reasonable answers. The only problem was that the Agent she'd become was anything but reasonable.

* * *

A/N: This is the end of what I think of as Part 1: The _**Dark Ages**_ that covered the first year and a half of their relationship. Part 2, noticeably shorter, will deal with _**The Renaissance**_ while Part 3, _**The Age of Reason**_, sets up the final arc – _**The End Times.**_

Don't put much stock in labels. I might just be messing with your minds. Still, 16 chapters to finish the Dark Ages was a lot of booze and …

* * *

Armor~Plated~Rat


	16. Chapter 16

A/N: Not a thing to say about it except THANKS FOR THE REVIEWS AND ALERTS! Makes my old heart give you TWO today!

APR

* * *

A Slip of the Tongue Chapter 17

When Katherine left Sarah in her room she felt uneasy. She couldn't put her finger on it but the Sarah Walker sitting on the edge of her bed was somehow less than the Sarah Walker she'd come to know. Tomorrow would be interesting. Sarah had recounted what had happened and together they would explore her answers.

* * *

Four weeks later

Sarah was given a clean bill of health, an admonition to stay out of the sun or wear a 'maximum sun block' and definitely no tanning beds for at least a year if not longer and a message that requested that she contact General Beckman at her earliest convenience.

She spoke with Katherine who told her she'd 'hold her spot' at the elevator to Hell and went to the communications center to video conference with the General. It took just a few minutes for the General to make herself available and begin the conference.

"Agent Walker, you will not be joining Mr. Carmichael as originally intended."

Sarah's heart skipped a beat and her mind went blank but then she was flooded with random thoughts – he was in another bunker, he'd been hurt, he decided on another cover - one that didn't include her - and at least twenty or thirty others she hadn't really 'recognized' yet.

"We had need of him in his special capacity after, as he put it, he tied together some loose ends. We don't have a time line on the mission but I would think by the end of the month at the very most. In the mean time, I would like you to visit the cover site and make any recommendations for changes. That will be all, Agent."

She sighed in frustration but looked at the briefing package and laughed. They were going into relocation in a small town near FT Meade for six months and Chuck was to spend time in data analysis – code for the Intersect Project. Sarah was assigned to a Protective Detail and would work with security and both would also go on missions if required but usually they would go together.

To the public eye, they would appear to be a husband and wife who worked for the government. It was a tight cover. They had government parking tags on their car and any absences wouldn't really be noticed since they lived on the outskirts of town in a small house. Their nearest neighbor was a horse breeder who lived 2 miles down the lane.

After six months, their location would probably change depending on the intersect capacity and upgrades and threat levels but Sarah secretly hoped it would be longer. She wanted to provide them both with a real home.

They were David and Amy Cain now. They'd just transferred to Maryland from the Midwest where they'd met in college, married and recently changed jobs and now worked with the government.

She met Katherine with a long face. "He's not here, Kat. He's been tasked for the remainder of the month to an operation. I'm to head out to our new location and look around and make any recommendations. The General said he'd be back before the end of the month.

"Well, it looks like you'll get to test your commitment early on, Sarah. Sitting around a house with nothing to do for a month will certainly test the strength of your convictions."

"Yeah. It sure will."

* * *

Five weeks later  
Unknown location  
Seal Team Able Mike

"Hey, Mr. Cain, how ya doin' over there?" He whispered loudly because sound really carried at night in the desert.

"Real fine, Ell-Tee. Found me a great section of beach and now I'm just waiting for the sun to rise and the ocean to fucking reappear for the first time since the Great Flood and then surf's up!"

They were waiting for extraction after locating and transmitting the GPS coordinates of a weapons dump containing the makings of several, certainly more than a dozen, dirty bombs that would be on their way to Israel and Europe. The US was concerned that such an attack would inflame tensions in the Middle East and disrupt the flow of oil. The information would be passed to the Israelis and it would be their problem to handle as they saw fit.

Chuck's job was to flash and photograph anything that would lead other agents back to the sources of the raw materials sold to the terrorists. He had two complete data sticks of photographs that would end the sale of hazardous materials to Hamas and other terrorist organizations.

To be safe, he'd copied the sticks and distributed the copies to the Seal Team leader and one other Seal. No sense making the trip for nothing if something traumatic happened – like getting killed. He'd learned the hard way about redundancy.

The sat-phone battery must have been defective because it wouldn't recharge using the solar panels and they missed their first pick-up. Chuck was afraid that the burst transmission containing the GPS coordinates of the weapons dump had failed and that was why he'd distributed the flash copies throughout the team.

They were out of food and water and although it wasn't 'high summer' it was damned hot and dry and dusty and sandy and…

There was no way for them to determine why the extraction bird hadn't picked them up at their rally point rendezvous but it hadn't. When extraction was 10 hours overdue the Seal commander made the decision to 'walk out' and cross into Israel through the Golan Heights. It would extend their mission four additional days.

They'd already extended the mission twice because the intel they'd gotten from the CIA on the location of the dump was wrong on the first site that they'd jumped into. It was David's first jump and his landing was not what the instructors at the 'quick course' would have approved of. He busted his ass big-time and the SEALS considered him a joke until later in the mission.

They had to wait in a hide and depended on air drops for resupply. It was freezing at night and hot during the day. He was miserable. The location of the dump finally came through and they literally ran all night to reach it and then holed up for dark.

David's part of the mission was flawless and bought him a spot at the 'table' and the LT in charge started treating him like something other than supercargo.

It was SOP that any team not making the first or second extraction rendezvous would be considered dead or captured. No further attempts at pickup would be authorized. Their existence would be erased like chalk from a black board. It gave their bosses 'plausible deniability'.

Four days proved to be optimistic as hell. It took six days and one of those was spent crawling through both Syrian and Israeli minefields before reaching the 'safety' of the Israeli fortifications along the border.

The Israelis greeted them like they were criminals and bandits, took their weapons and equipment, and interrogated them 'enthusiastically'. The IDF finally released them after a Mossad agent showed up, heard their tale and gave them the green light to go home – after spending a lot of time going over the debriefings and talking to 'David Cain' who was obviously a CIA agent.

* * *

Amy & David Cain residence  
Hansen's Ferry, MD

She cried herself to sleep the first two nights after Beckman called and told her that the mission was 'apparently a failure' and that there was no word on the team and they were missing and presumed dead or captured' and that she should prepare for reassignment.

She hated being left behind and even more, she hated being 'out of the loop' even though the General kept her updated on the search efforts daily.

She should have been with him. It was her job to keep him safe. It was _not_ his job to go running around with a bunch of crazy Seals doing God knows what. He was an intel analyst not a damned warrior.

She was sitting in her office pushing papers around, not even bothering to read the reports when General Beckman's aide came in and told her 'pack a bag for 3 nights and fly to Norfolk. Cain is in transit and will land sometime late this afternoon'.

* * *

Norfolk Naval Air Station

Amy was waiting on the tarmac with the other families and military personnel when the plane touched down at 9:30PM – almost 5 hours late. She almost sobbed in relief when she saw her lanky 'husband', dressed in desert BDUs and carrying an AKM and a rucksack, trudge wearily down the ramp.

'_Screw this – I've waited for weeks to do this and by God it's way past time!'_

She burst past the startled Shore Patrolmen and ran the 30 yards to the plane and threw herself at him. He stunk, needed a shave and a good 24 hours sleep but to her he smelled like home and the razor burn she'd sport in the morning was worth it.

"Welcome home, David. Once your debriefing is over, I've got a car and a hotel room and 3 days off. God, I was so damned worried. Beckman kept me in the loop but told me you guys were probably dead or worse."

He wrapped her in his arms and just held her. She felt so good and he was so tired. He knew he stunk. He knew he needed a shave but he just had to kiss her.

The SEAL Team erupted in catcalls and whistles but he and Amy were miles away in their own little slice of heaven. When they broke for air, Amy was blushing but smiling and the SEAL LT handed David a 'souvenir' badge, relieved him of his rucksack and weapon and told him that 'Cain and Able' would ride again if he ever needed support. He just waved, embarrassed by the attention.

"We debriefed on the plane. I want a shower and then we need to talk for a while and then…sleep just like Eden. No fireplace but we can pretend. How are you feeling? How are the legs? Everything alright?"

"I'm fine, just relieved you're home. My legs and chest are in great shape and I'll show you later in private. You look tired but we're only a few minutes away from a shower and bed."

"What's our status? Where are we based? WitSec or some other facility or are we on our own like Eden?"

"Hansen's Ferry, a little town near Headquarters for six months then they'll evaluate options. We're married again for the cover, David. We both have cover jobs at the Fort so we'll be able to train and work and be regular people just like Eden. Oh, and your lovely wife's name is Amy so don't be calling her anything else, OK?"

"Does that present any problems? I asked you a bunch of questions the last time I saw you. Did you think about them? Talk them over with your therapist?"

"Damn it, can't I just enjoy being with you for just ONE night before we deal with the questions and answers? Please, honey?"

'_Well, I guess I got my answers – if she wants just one night before dealing with them then it probably means I won't like the answers.'_


	17. Chapter 17

A/N: Sort of a cliff hanger but there's always tomorrow.

APR

* * *

_A Slip of the Tongue Chapter 18_

Norfolk King's Inn  
Norfolk

It was a nice room with a nice view but he was only interested in two things – the shower and the bed. He stunk and his hair was matted and greasy and he probably had fleas. He needed a shower in the worst kind of way.

The Israelis had not welcomed them with open arms. They'd been thrown into individual cells and held for 12 hours until the local Mossad rep interviewed them and got the straight skinny. They were on a plane and on their way home to Norfolk within hours of the intel changing hands.

He was overjoyed when he saw a tall blonde evade the Shore Patrolmen and then throw herself around him. Her kiss was soft and gentle and almost tentative and it seemed so long ago that they'd shared a similar kiss in the corridor at Safe Haven.

And now she was waiting patiently for him to finish what had to be his third shower. When he couldn't see any dirt in the shower drain, he got out, shaved and put on the boxers and t-shirt she'd left for him on the vanity.

He slipped into bed and rolled over on his side with his back to her. She was asleep and part of him was doing the happy dance because he really wasn't up for anything more than sleeping.

* * *

He woke to someone shaking him gently. No, not shaking exactly, more like…

"Sarah? What's wrong, Sarah?" He rolled over and wrapped her in his arms and she buried her face in his t-shirt and sobbed even more violently, twisting his t-shirt in her fists.

"Hey, please, can you tell me what's wrong? Have I done something? Did you have a bad dream or something?"

She shook her head and then burrowed deeper into him. It was like she was trying to get inside him. It went on like that for a few minutes and then she rolled over onto her side, her back to him, and started talking softly. He had a hard time understanding her but just shut up and listened as closely as he could, not wanting to miss a word.

"I thought you were dead. I fell apart. It was the worst feeling I ever had. I just ran on autopilot for 4 days until Beckman's aide told me that you were alive and coming home."

"I'm sorry but we had no way of communicating with anyone. The Sat-phone died on us and we couldn't bring our cells – not that they'd work in Syria anyway. Our extraction bird never made the rendezvous and we had to run to the backup site and it never showed there either. I'm sorry I worried you."

"I know you couldn't help it but it scared me. I'm not supposed to feel this way. It goes against my training and I'm supposed to keep all these emotions bottled up. I can't do it anymore."

"Then we shouldn't be together if it's making you feel that way. Ask General Beckman for another assignment. I'm sure she'll agree you've more than served your sentence for blowing the cover in Burbank."

"No! I don't want to split up. I want just the opposite. I want a guy in my life that I can depend on to be there when I need him, to share things with, to love me like I love him. I can promise to love you and protect you and let nothing come between us. Yeah, that's easy because I already love you and protecting you is my job."

David was unprepared for this. Walker had always been 'job oriented' to a point where it seemed an obsession with her. He couldn't see her, even as 'Amy Cain', leaving the job for long, certainly not for the duration of a cover marriage.

She told him she loved him over the phone when they were in Safe Haven but he couldn't believe her anymore then than now. People don't fall in love, the lasting kind that he wanted, without getting to know one another. It was all just too fast and too convenient.

"And when you get bored, Amy? Will you resent 'us' and begin questioning your decision in a year or two – or even less time? Will what you feel for me now turn into something else when our lives become your prison? Will you ask Beckman for the 'occasional mission' to keep your skills sharp and when the adrenaline rush hits you like crack to a junkie will those occasional missions become 'short assignments that get longer and longer until – "

"Until I don't bother coming back? That's the question you asked me in the corridor when you kissed me and then left me. That's what _you're_ afraid of, isn't it, David? That I'll hook up with some hotshot like that fucker Larkin and forget about poor David back home, right?"

"Exactly what I fear the most – some smooth guy with all the right moves and all the right skills comes along and then it's 'bye bye, David'. Yeah, and I have good reason to feel that way and you damned well know it."

"I couldn't do that to you now, David. I've never been in love before, really in love, not that 'itch-between-the-legs' love but the kind that makes me cry at the thought of hurting you and makes my heart beat so fast when I think about you and I together – like right now."

"What's your therapist think? I'm sure you discussed it. Poor David's fear of the year."

"Yeah, we did. She agrees with you on some things but understands what I mean that you probably can't understand because you're not a woman."

"That's – what things?"

"Like the thought of having Larkin's baby would make me run screaming to the clinic but the thought of having yours would make me buy tons of baby shit. You know what I mean. I'd spend every penny making sure our baby had everything under the sun."

David never thought about being a parent. His own parents were tragic role models.

She rolled over onto her back and sat up and slipped off her t-shirt.

"David, I've wanted us to make love since the night of our 'date'. I've loved you since before then but didn't know what I was feeling. It's gotten worse, this longing for you, not better. I daydream about us in Eden and how our lives would be if we were still there. I loved being with you there and I love being with you here. I'll love being with you anywhere."

He needed time to think. OK, she was obsessively job oriented and somehow this obsession focused itself on him. He became the mission. Essentially, _he_ became the job.

It all made sense in a heartbreaking sort of way. If the cover didn't work, she was out on her ass. How far would she go to protect the cover and her career?

"I'm dead tired and I haven't decompressed yet from the stress of running all over the countryside over there. I – I think we need to wait until I'm firing on all cylinders. Our first time should have both of us participating, not just you. Can you understand what I'm saying?"

"Yeah, and I think it's sweet and just what I'd expect from you. Now, can I at least have a decent 'goodnight' kiss? That kiss at the airport was rushed and we were both kind of desperate."

He didn't bother answering. He just kissed her forehead and she whined "Chuuuuck" but moaned when the next kiss was just below her ear and he sucked on the pulse point and nipped her where her neck met her shoulder but kissed away any pain.

He ran a string of kisses along her jawbone and finally their lips met in a deep kiss that left them both breathless.

"Maybe you'll get lucky, Mr. Cain, and wake up with a hot blonde all over you?"

"Doubt that will happen. I locked the door. She'll never get in."

"Ouch, Amy, quit pinching me, will ya?"

She rolled against him and was asleep within seconds or so it seemed to him. She had splayed herself over him and all he could think of was her warm softness and the tickling of her breath on his chest. He fell asleep almost as quickly, distracted by all the soft warm skin that seemed to be everywhere.

His last thought was '_If she's playing me, using her body to control me – she's got a surprise coming…'_

* * *

The rustling of paper bags woke him from a fitful sleep. He hopped out of bed and zipped into the bathroom and was back out and dressed in brand new jeans that fit him and a Stanford sweatshirt that had seen better days. He'd hacked off the sleeves years before and it was his favorite thing to wear when he had nothing to do.

She was sitting at the small table and nibbling at something that smelled delicious.

"Morning, or rather, good afternoon, sleepyhead. I wasn't sure what you wanted to eat so I brought Chinese figuring the smell would pull you out of bed. I went shopping this morning and got you some clothes since all you had was what the Seals left you with. We'll go out again later after you've eaten. I got you shaving stuff and shampoo – y'know, personal stuff, just to get you presentable in public."

"Nice sweatshirt. Where'd you come up with it? I had one just like it…"

"Um, well, it's yours, David. I sort of stole it and took it with me to Safe Haven. It was something of yours and I wanted it – so sue me for wanting something of yours next to my skin. I told you last night, David Cain, that we're married for real and in the cover and – "

"I thought I smelled 'girl' on it when I put it on. Please, can I please eat something? I'm dying here, Agent Walker."

"It's Amy, or darling, or honey, or baby, or wife, or sweetheart, _**but's it's not Agent goddamned Walker!**_"

"Fine, Amy-darling-honey-baby-wife-sweetheart-not-Agent-Goddamned-Walker – gimme my damn food!"

"Cranky? Want coffee, too?" She was smirking but also tickled because he'd remembered her litany of names. And he recognized her scent? Well, she did spray it with her signature vanilla perfume.

Amy smiled as she watched him eat. It was the simple things that brought her pleasure and satisfaction in her relationship with David. He was basically a simple man with a complex brain and abilities but he didn't let it 'go to his head'.

She laughed quietly to herself and he looked up from his plate and asked, "What? I'm starved, Amy-darling-honey-baby-wife-sweetheart, and MREs are not on my list of haute cuisine and we quickly ran out of those anyhow."

"I wasn't laughing at you, David. I'm just happy, OK? I've missed you and I worried about you and now you're back and it feels like a concrete block has been lifted from my chest. I feel – content, OK?"

He went back to eating. It had been a couple of days since they ran out of MREs and the IDF had not fed them.

"Do you want to see your cover briefing package, David? It's skimpy but we can put flesh on the bare bones. This evening I want to hit the mall and pick up clothes for you to get started."

"Yeah, I left Eden in a hurry. OK, I guess I'll suck it up and brave the mall. You _will_ stay close to me. I hate malls. All those pushy people and I don't even want to think about what happens if something's _on sale!_"

"You can buy more stuff later when we get home and have some idea of the job and our leisure time, OK? You can't run around post in jeans and a funky sweatshirt that smells like me. They'll think you're gay or something."

"Agent Walker, what's wrong with being gay? You're not a homophobe, are you? Is my lifestyle choice going to be a problem? Casey never had a problem with it."

Her mind blanked out for a second. Was he trying to tell her he was gay? That would explain why he never seemed interested in…whoa! What about Maureen? He always said 'he needed a friend' not a 'lover' or 'girlfriend'. His file never mentioned any sexual preference issues. She'd just assumed…

'_OH CRAP!'_

* * *

The Devil made me do it, honest!

APR


	18. Chapter 18

E/N: You guys are so great. he's in a great mood and considering Monday's upcoming poisoning, that's awesome. I tore up my ankle last night and I got a little taste of his world in the ER and a boot for consolation. Sooooo, here's a couple maybe three to tide you over. He'll be back on Friday or Saturday. This last round is supposed to be a doozy so I expect he'll be a cranky bear again. He won't touch the laptop until he's feeling OK - except to read the financial reports on and then he really gets depressed.

Thanks again for all the reviews and the PMs and the awesome smart-assed comments. He laughed out loud and that's rare for the great stone face.

Nikki B

* * *

A Slip of the Tongue Chapter 19

He watched, amused, as she rapidly reassessed her position. He could see her mind turning over events, people…finally he decided to have pity on the poor agent.

"Amy, I'm straight as an arrow although gay people don't freak me out or anything. Different strokes, right? Breathe. I was just teasing you."

"Oh, thank God!" She slapped her hand over her mouth and blushed and he just laughed. Sometimes she was so predictable.

"Let's spend the night here and then drive up to…wherever the hell home is now and check out the new digs. You said you spent the night there? How are we fixed for stuff?"

"Hansen's Ferry. We're fully furnished – including a toaster – and all we'll really need is clothes and then whatever luxuries we can't live without. It's got two bedrooms – and we're only using _one_ – so the other can be an office or whatever we decide. It's – nice, David, and the town is about the same size as Eden but I haven't really checked it out. God! One of us might actually have to cook!"

"Have you met the 'watch detail' yet? Met the Chief of Police?" Cooking was the bane of their existence. Neither learned. She was an agent not a cook and probably never ever made a sandwich before Eden. He wished he'd paid more attention to what Ellie had tried to teach him.

'_I haven't thought of Ellie since Eden and even then it was just in passing. Have I gotten so damned self-centered that I've forgotten I had a sister?'_

"No, I don't think we have one this time. I don't know if Casey is back on duty or what. We're supposed to be a team of two couples. I can't imagine Casey with a wife, can you?"

She noticed the sudden sad look on his face. Distracted, he probably didn't hear her response. She grabbed his hand, concerned that he was worried about something.

"What's wrong, honey? You have the saddest look on your face." _'Oh, please don't let him be having second thoughts.'_

"I have a sister I haven't even thought about for a long time and I was just wondering how she was doing and how she took the news of my disappearance, that's all. She's the cook in the family and I just wished I'd spent more time with her and paid more attention to her. I suppose it's just how I'm coping with the cover stuff. No problem."

"Maybe we can talk to Beckman about letting her know you're still alive and some how a meeting can be arranged? It's a long shot but – "

"No, let her have her memories and her life. I don't want to screw it up for her. I just – I just was wondering, that's all. I'm going to shave and clean up and then we'll hit the mall, girly smells and all."

She saw how he'd struggled with that simple sentence that further buried Chuck Bartowski. She made a mental note to mention it to Beckman. '_Let her have her memories and her life'_ summed up so much about him. He'd never want to harm an innocent. It just wasn't in him.

They call it 'collateral damage' in the spy game. When innocents get hurt or worse.

* * *

The Mall

Amy took her role of 'wife' seriously and spent a lot of time deciding what he'd need to start 'work'. Suits, shirts, underwear, ties, belts, shoes, socks, were at the top of her list. He looked over her shoulder at the list and shuddered.

"We're going to be here all night!" He was still tired and achy from the recent flight. All he wanted was to use the bed in their room for its intended purpose – sleep.

"Oh, we're not getting the entire list, sweetie, just enough to get you out the door clothed in a respectable manner. Besides, I don't think the suits I want you in are sold here."

They were halfway through the list when his cell chirped. She vaguely waved and walked off both to give him privacy and to buy his underwear. She had definite ideas of what she wanted him in and out of.

"Cain, secure but in public."

"Beckman. I know you just got back in-country and want time to adjust to your new environment but I need Agent Walker, oh, Agent Cain, sorry, for a week or so. Our British cousins have stumbled onto something and it needs investigating. Please have her call me in the morning."

"Why didn't you just call her directly? She's the agent in this endeavor. I'm surprised you've kept us together since anyone could be my minder."

"Minder? She's more than a 'minder' and you know it. She's totally compromised and I can't think of a better match for you, Mr. Cain. The reason I have called you is that she made it absolutely clear that any assignment without you was to be at your discretion. Normally she wouldn't be on the 'available list' at all but these are not normal times and I trust her implicitly."

"Thanks for the explanation, General. I'm sure she'd be anxious to perform. She's probably bored to death with paper work. I'll tell her."

"Good night, Mr. Cain."

He found her paying for several purchases and she grinned and handed him the bags. The look on his face worried her. _'Crap! Not another mission so soon after the last one?'_

"That was the boss on the phone. I'm off until Wednesday. Let's go somewhere and just enjoy the rest of the evening. Reality will come soon enough. Let's just enjoy being together. Maybe you can show me those dance moves you put on in Eden?" She was so happy and he didn't want to spoil her mood.

* * *

The bar across the highway from the motel had a band and Amy dragged him out to the dance floor. She was fine with things until his breath hit her ear when he talked and then all she wanted to do was drag him back to their room and make love all night.

"Amy, Beckman says you're 'totally compromised' and that you convinced her to give me final approval of any 'solo missions' you pull. Why?"

"Why am I compromised? Because I love you, you silly man. Beckman says I'm the perfect partner for you because I'd never let anything happen to you. That's a big change from Burbank. As for 'solo missions', yeah, I want you to know all about them and to approve them. I don't want you thinking I'm bored and looking for the adrenaline rush."

She stopped dancing and kissed him, swaying with the music and enjoying his response. He pulled her closer and broke the kiss and nibbled on her ear lobe and enjoyed her reaction.

"The only adrenaline rush I'm looking for," and she squirmed against him, grinding against him, "is the one I'll get when you finally take me in your arms and make love to me. It's that simple."

"And after the novelty wears off?" He couldn't help it. She was driving him crazy with her movements and he couldn't hide what was happening south of his belt. He knew he had to be blushing because his face felt flush.

"Oh, David, the novelty will never wear off. I don't want to dance anymore. Let's go back to the room. I bought something just for you. Wanna see it, husband?"

"Oh, yeah. Good idea. Let's go."

* * *

She never got to show him what she bought because the second the door to their room closed he scooped her up and put her on the bed. She never took her eyes from his while he unbuttoned her top and slipped it over her shoulders and then kissed his way from the hollow between her breasts up to her lips and then back down again.

She saw him smile slightly when he saw the Guardian Angel pendant.

"I've never taken it off, David, except for the hospital. You have no idea how important this is to me."

He nodded and then was defeated by her bra. She laughed and kissed him lightly, not wanting to distract him from stripping off her clothes. She was so turned on by his tenderness.

"It has a front clasp, baby. Easy on and easy off." He opened her bra and kissed each small blemish that was all that remained of the horrible scars he'd seen in Eden.

"Beautiful. You're so damned beautiful. You can't even see the scars - they're gone. I'm so glad because I know they bothered you."

A while later, they lay in each other's arms. He was exhausted. She felt wonderful but tired. "I think I lost 5 pounds, David. That was…" She reached down between his legs and ran her thumb over the moist head and David groaned.

'_He called me 'Sarah' when he climaxed. We'll need to work on that. He's slipped up a time or two this evening but if the only time he calls me 'Sarah' is when we're together in bed – then I hope to hear it just a few million times before I die.'_

"Not again, Amy. I'm too damned tired. Making love to you is like running in a marathon. Feel how my heart's pounding." He grabbed her hand intending to put it on his chest but she had other ideas.

He really was tired. The desert vacation had sucked all the moisture from his system and he felt like a dried up husk. Surely she must realize how tired he was. He'd almost nodded off on the drive back from the mall.

"Oh, I see. You're one of those guys that makes a score and then hits the door or rolls over and starts to snore." She was laughing when she said it. He grinned and muttered something but she called him on it.

"What was that? You what?"

"I'm too damned tired to hit anything except this mattress. I feel like I'm 100 years old and I can't seem to drink enough water. We're never taking a desert vacation. I want the beach and an ocean and guys bringing around those drinks with the little umbrellas in them."

"I'll settle for our small house in the boonies, David."

"Call Beckman in the morning. You've been seconded to Her Majesty's Secret Service for a week." He used his best British accent but she didn't think it was a bit funny.

"You knew? You knew and didn't tell me?"

"Beckman said to tell you to call her in the morning. She gave me a bare-bones description. That's all I know. It's no big deal. You come and go all the time. Even though Beckman says it's up to me, you and I both know that you'll go whether I approve or not so let's quit fooling each other. You're an agent – it's what you do. Just go, have a good time but come back healthy."

"I'm not going on a damned vacation, y'know? It's work. It's what I do – no, damn it – it's what _we_do. Why didn't you ask to come along. Use the 'it's good training' line?"

"You don't need some half-assed wannabe agent tagging along and getting in the way. What you do is dangerous and I wouldn't dream of getting in the way. You might get hurt or worse because of me. Beckman said it's solo, so go. I'm not going anywhere, Amy."

"That's what you told me in Eden and look where it got us!"

"Seems to me that this is exactly where you wanted us to be – lying naked and exhausted and happy – right?"

"Exactly right, my love. Look, let me talk to the General and see about getting you on the crew. Bad things happen when we're apart, Chuck. And I want to know you're safe and happy at all times."

"David, not Chuck. I know I slip up sometimes and call you Sarah but at least I haven't…" He stopped talking. He didn't want to argue and he almost used Larkin and her slip up in Eden against her.

"You haven't what? Go on, say it. Go ahead. Say it!"

"No. I wouldn't mean it anyway. I'm tired and cranky and the last thing I want to do is to sully our 'first time' with an argument. Please, Sarah – just let it go for once. You don't have to know everything I'm thinking and it's bullshit anyway. I'm going to shut up now and go to sleep. I feel like – like I need to sleep."

"I don't want to sleep. I want to talk this out. This is exactly why…"

"Jesus, would you just let it go. Yesterday I was in an airplane flying across half the planet and I couldn't sleep. The day before that I was in an Israeli jail awaiting execution and I couldn't sleep then because I was afraid I'd never get back to you. The day before that I was crawling through Syrian and Israeli minefields trying not to blow myself and my team up. The day before that I was running, afraid the Seals would leave me if I couldn't keep up. The day before that was more of the same. I'm so fucking tired and now I have a new 'wife' and a new 'name' and a whole new 'life' to learn about for the damned cover!"

He'd gotten louder as his recitation went on. She felt like such a shit. She'd pushed him to do more than he could and he was tired. It would take more than a nap to bring him back to 'normal'.

"I'm sorry. I didn't know. I should have known or at least suspected when I saw the SEALS dragging ass. I've pushed and shoved and forced you to do things you weren't ready to do. I'm sorry. Just lay down beside me and I'll keep the bad dreams away. Sleep, Chuck. Just go to sleep."

She had to stay focused if this way going to work out. No more arguments. He was not Bryce Larkin. Larkin was dead. The man in her arms was very much alive although dead tired.

He was almost asleep but managed "I'm David, not Chuck. Chuck's dead and gone and forgotten."


	19. Chapter 19

A Slip of the Tongue Chapter 20

Cain Residence  
Hansen's Ferry, MD

It was a nice 2- story house. Three bedrooms, not two as she'd told him. It had a large country kitchen that shared an old fashioned walk-thru fireplace with the large living room. There was also a full basement, and a detached garage. Sarah was enthusiastically showing him around the fully-furnished place, obviously enjoying herself.

"It's got a Jacuzzi tub in the master bath, honey, and I can think of so many things to do in it." She pulled him into a hug, thoroughly into the cover.

"It's really nice. I love the fireplace. The place is very nicely furnished. You did good, Amy. It's perfect." He wasn't blowing smoke. It was a perfect home for them.

"I think I liked the house in Eden more though. It was smaller and more homey but this will do until we get reassigned. Now I'd like to take a tour of the town, sweetheart, and see what the menu opportunities are."

They both laughed at that. Other than breakfast and grilling, neither of them were comfortable in the kitchen.

"Chuck, are you going to be OK here for the week I'm gone? I wish you'd have told the old troll 'No'. We've just started living together and she's sending me to England for a joint venture with MI-6. It's not fair."

"David, remember? I'm David."

"Yeah. OK, I made a mistake. I'll be more careful. Answer the question. Will you be OK here on your own while I'm gone?"

"Yeah. Piece of cake. Let's tour the town. Maybe we'll run into the new 'Casey'."

While his 'wife' changed into casual clothes, he used her cell phone to call her therapist. He felt like a complete tool going behind her back, but something was off and he needed to know the situation so he didn't make things worse for her inadvertently.

"Well, this is a surprise. How are you, Sarah? Need to talk?"

"It's the guy from the Pit. I need insights without getting into the ethics arena, OK, Katherine?"

"What do you need?" Her voice was professional now.

"She's extremely manic and claims she's madly in love with me, and goes on and on about it. I need to know if this is something new or if it's just how she is when she's focused on her mission."

"You've dismissed the possibility that it's for real, Chuck? That who you're seeing is who she really is? I was standing right beside her when she slipped up and blurted out that she loved you. It was not contrived, planned or orchestrated. It's real."

"I'll have to think about that. I don't see how she could transit from disliking me intensely to throwing herself at me and professing undying love and devotion in such a short time span. Believe me when I tell you it's not puppy love or the Stockholm Syndrome at work."

"What other explanation could there be, 'guy from the Pit'?"

"I'm afraid that she's playing me for the cover. I need to know if that's true or not."

Katherine knew that this one needed time on her couch. He seemed so normal until the paranoia crept into the conversation. This guy had _issues_.

"I can't help you with that. That's something you need to evaluate and decide on. How has she been sleeping? Are the nightmares waking her or is the medication I prescribed doing the job?"

She'd prescribed a light sleep aid, nothing habit forming, to help her get back to sleep after one of her nightmares.

"Medication? What medication? Hell, Beckman's sending her out on a joint op with the Brits and she's on tranquilizers? Does the general even know about them?"

"Chuck, she's been on tranquilizers since she got back to Eden after the Colorado operation. That's why we required the mandatory therapy. She was wrapped tighter than a drum. She was technically on restricted duty due to medical reasons. Going back to Eden was part of her therapy. You helped her get through some of the toughest times. Don't turn your back on her now."

"I won't. And for the record, Katherine, it's David Cain now. She's Amy. I'm going to have to go to Beckman with this information. I can't allow her to go to the field if she's taking narcotics. If anything happened to her I could never forgive myself. She's special to me."

"Oh-ho, so you do love her. Tell her. It'll mean all the difference in the world to her."

"I mean what I said. She's very special to me. That's all I'm going to say. I'm not the one in therapy. Now, are you going to call Beckman or should I?"

Katherine sighed and looked at her watch and her schedule. She'd have to clear two patients for the General's call. It wouldn't be a mere information call. There'd be a 'lively discussion', that's certain, but she couldn't spare the time.

"You call her. Get back in touch after your call. Give me your cell number just in case I need to reach you about her status."

He put her cell back in her purse and walked out onto the front porch. It was still raining and he figured they'd take a tour of the town and then come back and work out lunch and dinner plans. The NSA had even stocked the refrigerator.

* * *

Sarah joined him on the porch and took his hand and led him over to the wicker love seat and pushed him down on it and then sat on his lap. She put her arms around his neck and sighed in his ear and he felt her totally relax.

"I want to come out here in the summer and have a hot and heavy make out session. This place reminds me of where I grew up."

She got quiet and he just rubbed circles on her back and enjoyed the moment. He didn't love her. Not like she claimed to love him. She was very special to him, his last connection with 'Chuck Bartowski' but he wasn't in love with her.

"I want to have an off-the-record talk. It's between Chuck and Sarah not David and Amy, OK?"

"Go ahead. I'm listening." He was. He felt a keen sense of anticipation. Maybe he'd get the unvarnished truth out of her this time without the usual redactions and half-truths.

"I have confessions to make. I'm afraid of just how you'll react but I promised you once that I'd never lie to you and I won't start now. Remember on the beach when I asked you to trust me? Well, I'm asking you again to trust me. Do you trust me, Chuck?"

"Sarah, I won't lie either. I trust you with my life."

"Good. Now, first confession. I've had feelings for you since I came back from the hospital the first time. Somehow, in the hospital after my emergency surgery, I realized that when I was most frightened, when I thought I was going to die, you were the only one I wanted to see. Crazy, isn't it? Not my parents, certainly not Bryce or any of my other lovers, only you."

"Go on, Sarah. I'm listening."

"I'm taking pills for severe anxiety. That's not true – I was taking them. I dumped them all down the toilet just now. I can't be what you need me to be if I'm walking around stoned. Last night was wonderful but I know for you it was just _incredible_ sex while for me it was making love. I wasn't high or stoned or under the influence when I told you I loved you."

"It was incredible but it was more than just sex, surely you understand that, Sarah?"

"You've never told me 'I love you' and that's OK. You don't lie and if and when you do say those three words to me I'll know it's the truth so I'll wait for it."

"Sarah, I can't say what I don't feel. I like you, a lot. I loved living with you – even before the sex. We're friends and maybe, someday, more, but I won't lie to you and tell you something I don't feel. I'm sorry if that hurts but it's how it is for now."

"I know and I love you for it. I'll always be able to count on you to tell me the truth, even if it hurts."

"Any more confessions? I can live with anxious Sarah or Amy, if I just know what to do to make you less... Damn, I sound like Katherine, don't I?"

"Yeah but I don't love Katherine and I don't want to do the nasty with her either. One more confession although it's nothing bad. Chuck, my home is 40 miles from here, just off the interstate. I haven't been home in 6 years and I'd like to drop by and maybe see them sometime? Will you please come with me?"

"Let's go right now. I'd like to meet your parents and see where you grew up. Go put on something a little more girly than jeans and a sweatshirt and we'll leave when you're ready."

"See? That's another thing I love about you. Your dedication to family. I'll be back in a flash."

She was back and asked him to open up the trunk. She'd packed a bag for them in case they stayed late and wanted to get a motel…or something. She had a twinkle in her eye he'd never seen before. Maybe it was just anticipation of going home.

The drive was not as long as 40 miles would make it seem. She chatted on about her family and the town. She lived in West York, on the bay but not on the 'Eastern Shore'. He thought he heard a different accent bleeding through when she pronounced the names of towns and places. At first he thought it was his imagination but as she spoke he heard it. He thought it was cute.

"David, how do you want to play this? Are we married, dating, living together or just friends?" She had taken off her engagement and wedding rings and was playing with them, suddenly uncertain of what to do.

"Well, first of all, what's your real name? I can't call you 'Amy' and have them look at me like I'm nuts."

"Pull over and let's talk about some stuff." She hadn't even given it any thought. He was right. He couldn't call her Amy or Sarah or Lucinda or Gale or any of the other aliases she used for her assignments.

"My real name is Holly. Holly Franklin. I'm 28 and I went to GWU and then I got a job with the government. My family thinks I work out of the country at various embassies as an economic development advisor. I don't ever want them to know the truth."

"I want you to be Holly Franklin Cain. If we're going to be here a while, there's no sense in making this a one-time visit. We'll invite them down to Hansen's Ferry to visit. It's normal, Sarah. Crap, HOLLY!"

"We met just like we did for the cover. We both have classified jobs with the government – not the NSA – and that's all we're going to tell them, OK?"

"Fine. But where did we meet? Why didn't you ever tell them you were married? Why now?"

"Ugh. Maybe this is a bad idea, Chuck. To many areas we can't explain well enough. Let's turn around. This is a bad idea."

"No! We're this close. It's not right for you to spend 6 years without seeing them. You almost died and now you're here where you grew up."

He pulled out the big guns.

"Are you ashamed of me, Holly? Is that it? Not up to the standards your folks set for you? Drop me off at a motel or something and go on in and see your family. Fewer questions and you can make up whatever 'facts' you think they want to hear. I'll be fine."

She almost agreed. It was so damned logical, damn him.

"The best part is that you won't have to explain what happened to me the next time you visit. It's elegant, compartmentalized and you can explain away anything if you just keep it simple."

"I'm not ashamed of you. Not at all. The next time I visit, you'll be with me, right by my side where you belong. No more talk of us splitting up. I won't have it. Now, let's get moving. I love you, husband. No one will get between us and survive."


	20. Chapter 20

Nik's Notes: Last one for the week. Enjoy and please review.

Nikki B

* * *

A Slip of the Tongue Chapter 21

They drove into a small town that looked 'quaint' and then out the other end. His 'wife' had kept up a running commentary of the changes, places she'd been and things she'd done at various locations. She didn't seem nervous or apprehensive at all and he brushed away his concern regarding anxiety attacks.

"Turn here and it's just down the lane a bit." Down the lane was almost a mile and Chuck noticed the white painted board fencing that separated fields of grass with grazing horses from the roadway on both sides.

"I'd hate to have to paint this fence. Would be a summer-long job."

"It was. My sister and I screwed up and my Dad decided that we'd work off our fines by painting the fences – both sides. I had a killer tan when I went off to college."

"Community service? Cool." He liked the image of Holly in a tiny bikini covered with white paint.

"David, get your mind out of my bikini bottoms and on the road. Maybe later." She grinned at his blush. She knew how he was – he was all man.

"And no, it wasn't community service. My family owns all this. It was my Dad's fences we painted."

"What's your sister's name?" He was still digesting 'my dad's fences'. She was a rich girl, and uptown girl. No wonder she hit it off with Bryce. His family practically owned Connecticut.

"Heather."

He started humming _Uptown Girl _and she smacked him on the arm. "Hey, that's mean. I grew up in the country not the city."

"True, babe, but it was your _own_ country. That makes you the Princess of Franklinoria as well as the Queen of the CIA. I guess that makes me the Prince of Fools, huh?"

"Read much Victor Hugo, Chuckles?"

"Remember the cover, Your Highness. No slips of the tongue, please."

She leaned over the console and pulled his head toward her and washed his ear with her tongue. He shivered and brought the car to a halt and turned to her with a look she'd never seen on his face.

"Unless you want to greet Mom and Dad and Sis with an 'I've just been ravished' look on your face, please keep your hands and tongue to yourself."

She giggled. Agent Sarah Walker, seductress extraordinaire, assassin and mistress of spies, giggled. He pulled onto the road and started driving, keeping one eye on his wife and the other on the road. He liked playful Sarah but Amy was more than he could handle at the moment.

"Stop the car, David! Bend me over the hood and have your way with me. I need to feel your…"

"Jesus, will you stop that! How am I supposed to meet the parents with a geat big – oh, never mind. I've married a romance novelist's idea of a nymphomaniac."

"I'll bet you really hate it, too, doncha, big boy?" She reached for his crotch and he grabbed her hand.

"Princess, later I will take off every stitch of your clothing except your necklace and there won't be anyplace on your sexy body that I won't be intimately acquainted with by the time you're done. Until then, no PDAs that aren't a cover requirement. I want to make a good first impression with your folks, OK?"

"OK, spoilsport." A pause and then, "I love you, Chuck, always remember that. This is just another reason. OK, back to the cover, David. Just remember to relax and be yourself – be David Cain, who runs with SEALS."

"Holly, that's not part of the cover."

"No, but I'm so proud of how the SEALS accepted you. You made a good first impression with them. My folks will be 'a piece of cake'."

He zoned out for a few seconds. He was back in the desert depot flashing and photographing crates and reading the Geiger counter. A guard walked out between some crates, buttoning his fly and spotted him standing in the aisle taking photos.

His SEAL 'guard' was nowhere to be seen and so David Crain killed a man with a knife. After wiping it clean on the man's shirt, he resumed his mission. A few seconds later he heard his guard say '_NSA got a kill. I'm handling the body. Continuing the mission_,' over the whisper mike circuit.

"David? David!" The car was slowing and drifting off the road toward the fence and he seemed deep in thought. She grabbed the wheel and straightened the car out and yelled at him to 'wake up'.

"What?" He was in a car. Some place where the grass was green and there were spring buds on the trees. _'What happened to Syria?'_ He pulled over to the side of the lane and turned off the car and started to shake. He fought to get it under control. It wasn't the first time it had happened, just the most inopportune.

"David, what's wrong? Talk to me! Are you sick? Is it the intersect?" She got out of the car and ran around to his side and jerked open the door and helped him get out.

"Let's walk a bit. The fresh air will do you good. What's wrong, honey? Talk to me." She felt his brow for fever but other than beads of fear sweat his temp seemed normal.

"SEALS. Syria. I just flashed on the mission, that's all. No big deal. I just – I don't know, I was back there and the guard was going for his AK and I didn't have a choice. He would have blown the mission."

He stopped talking and stared out over the rolling grassy hills and the trees that lined the edges of the meadows. '_So green_.'

"Go on. David?" Something happened that brought this on. Something triggered a flashback.

"David? CHUCK!"

He turned his head quickly, a look of irritation on his face.

"Damn it, Amy, it's DAVID. David Cain. The man you fell in love with and married. Not 'Chuck'. Not anymore."

"Then don't space out on me. Tell me about the mission. All of it. Leave nothing out."

"It's classified way above your pay grade, Agent. You have no need to know."

She stepped back as if she'd been struck. '_No need to know_'._ This is how he must have felt every time Casey or I used it to avoid answering a question. Welcome to the worlds of Chuck Bartowski, Charles Carmichael and now David Crain.'_

She composed herself and tried talking to him in a normal voice.

"Are you going to all right to drive, honey? Do you need more time to compose yourself? I can drive if you want. Maybe we should do this another time?"

'_Damn! I never should have tossed those pills. He could use one about now. What happened on that damned mission that could impact him so much?'_

"No, I'm fine now, really. I just wigged out for a few seconds. I don't know how you do this, Sarah, day after day, year after year. I don't know how you do it."

"David, we're going home. We'll do this another day. I've waited 6 years; another few weeks won't matter. What matters is you. Let's go home, honey. I'll drive and you can take a nap or take in the scenery or we can just sit and enjoy the drive."

"No. No way. We're so close. We have to do this. You need this and somehow, so do I. Get in the car. I'm driving. I'm fine, really. I just have to…OK, I have to talk about it and I'll talk to _you_ but not now. This is your day, Holly, your time. Let's not ruin it."

"OK, but we're leaving if you feel another one coming on, OK? Promise me you'll tell me if you feel another one. You need to talk it out. Don't keep it bottled up or you'll end up like me – burnt out and taking happy pills to make it through the day."

"OK. We'll talk it out at home. Right after I keep my promise."

"What promise?"

"The promise I made, a threat actually, involving taking off every stitch of your clothing off except your necklace and becoming intimately familiar with every square inch of your sexy body."

"Oh! That promise. Oh, yeah." She had a far-away but hungry look on her face and he laughed.

"You're so _easy_ sometimes."

"I'll never play hard to get with you. Never. Now, drive. The sooner we're home the sooner I can 'debrief' you."

Another few hundred yards and she started to fidget in her seat. He thought that was funny but tried not to laugh.

"OK, turn here and be careful. Sometimes the dogs are out and they're too fat and lazy to get out of the way."

Old and majestic Elm trees lined both sides of the lane and their broad limbs intertwined overhead. The house came into view and David stopped the car.

"That's your house? It's huge! I guess calling you 'Princess' wasn't far off the mark. It's a damned mansion!"

"It started out as a one room cabin back in the 1700s and each owner and successive generation added rooms to meet their needs. I think the last addition was back in the 1920s. They used to smuggle Rum in from the Bay during Prohibition."

There were several black dogs lazing around the front steps leading to a large verandah and when they got out of the car they all came to inspect the new arrivals. One particularly old dog spotted Holly and the years fell away and a puppy attacked her barking and licking and trying to crawl up into her arms.

"This baby is Samson. He's my baby, yes he is, he's my little puppy-doo."

She started baby-talking to the dog and he saw another side of his wife he'd never seen before. Of course it was inevitable. He thought of her holding their baby in a hospital bed and whatever reservations he had melted away and he lost his heart, body and soul to the beautiful young woman with dog snot on her cheek who said she loved him.

David handed her a handkerchief and pointed to her face and muttered something about 'dog slobber' and she laughed and wiped her face clean and put the soiled handkerchief in her purse.

"Let's go meet the folks, David. I'll come back out and play with Samson a little later. I'm so glad we came. You were right. I need to do this."

They were just walking up the steps when they heard a voice shout 'Holly?'

Holly turned at the sound of her mother's voice and squeezed her husband's hand and smiled and then ran down the steps and up the lane toward the stables and her mother.

David was watching the happy reunion when the front door opened and a tall man with craggy features walked out onto the verandah. He saw his wife with a tall blonde and a grin split his face and then he noticed his visitor.

"I'm Ben Franklin. Yes, I've heard them all. So, what are you? Boyfriend, just a friend - oh, not another damned fiancé? What happened to the last one? Oh, well, like I said, I'm Ben and that's my wife, Elizabeth, Libby for short. And you are…?"

What did he mean, _'the last one_?'

"I'm the husband. David Crane. It's nice to finally meet you. Holly's told me absolutely nothing about you." He offered his hand to the older man.

"Husband, huh? That's a first. David, is it? Well, I guess I should say 'welcome to the family', shouldn't I?"

He hadn't taken his eyes off his daughter during the entire conversation. David saw the tightening of the jaw and the narrowing of the eyes and figured that this part of the reunion wasn't going to go as smoothly as the one with the two women.

"Mr. Franklin…"

"Ben. Mr. Franklin is my father and he's dead." He finally looked David in the eyes, studying him, evaluating him, measuring him.

"OK, Ben, then. Don't dump any crap on Holly. She's had some problems and she's…hell, I guess 'fragile' is the best description. It didn't take us long to get here from our house but it'll take less time to drive back if you hassle her, understand? She's had some problems and I won't let anyone hassle her."

"Love her, do ya?"

"Yeah, I do." It didn't feel like a lie. He didn't feel like a liar.

"Good. Are you a beer drinker, David?"

"Yeah, I am, domestic if you got it. That foreign crap is – foreign." He turned to check on his wife and her mother. _Christ – I have a mother in law now!_

"What kind of problems did she have, David? What subjects don't we talk about?"

"Why don't you go give her a hug and figure those out for yourself. Just don't give her a raft of crap, Ben. I know you're her father, but I'm her husband and I wont let anyone hurt her, not even family."

"I guess you'll do. Welcome to the Franklin family, David. When am I going to have a grandchild or two to spoil? Heather hardly comes by and when she does it's just for a quick visit. We don't expect kids from her. She's too mean and into her career to keep a guy long enough to get knocked up."

David cringed. Grandchildren? Holy crap! He needed to run that one past Holly.

"We still got a lot of stuff to do before then and we killed our savings buying the house mortgage-free so kids are 'pending' if you know what I mean?"

"We'll talk later, David. I want to go hug my oldest baby girl and find out what's been happening all these years. Libby doesn't need to know about Holly's troubles. She'll figure it out on her own. Being married to a damned psychotherapist has taught me to be 'real'. Buncha crap if you ask me."

He lumbered down the steps and over to his daughter and swept both women into a hug. David felt like he'd passed some test or exam and sat down on the steps to wait for events to unfold. He was incredibly happy for the first time in ages and he felt like he'd come home.

Samson ambled up and sat beside him, smelling his mistress _all over_ this stranger and finally laid down on the step beside him and accepted an ear scratch. The old Labrador was a damned good judge of character.


	21. Chapter 21

Nik's Notes: OK, you get one more - he insisted saying he wanted to leave you with some 'closure' and he won't say another damned thing. Let him know you're thinking about him. I think Monday scares the crap out of him. It does to me.

Anyhow...he's your damned 'closure' courtesy of the scrawny man with the lovely and adorable and sexy and charming and well-hootered Cajun hunnie.

Nikki B

A Slip of the Tongue Chapter 22

Holly and her mother were both crying and hugging when Ben Franklin enveloped both his 'girls' in his famous bear hug. Soon the women calmed down and Ben looked at his wife and motioned towards the house and the man sitting there, petting old Samson.

"He's not a friend, a boyfriend or a damned fiancé. He a new breed of critter. A husband!"

His grin and his words told his wife that whoever the tall man draped across the steps up to the house and petting Samson was, that he'd passed the Franklin Test. And Samson liked him.

"Hey, Holly. Long time – no see. I notice you brought a husband home to visit. You're not in 'trouble' are you?"

"Daddy! We've been married almost 3 ½ years. He was a perfect gentleman and I just couldn't resist those eyes and his personality. He's loving and caring and trusting and…"

"Sounds like a dog to me. Samson likes him. That's an improvement over what's his name. Dog absolutely hated that slick metro sexual piece of crap with a passion normally reserved for hating cats."

He saw Libby shake her head quickly and changed the subject. Apparently Bryce Larkin was not only out of the picture but he'd been purged from all memories also. Good. He and Samson were of like mind where that turdball was concerned.

"So David tells me you guys bought a house and live near here. Are we going to see more of you or are you still traveling around the world making money for other people?"

"I still travel some. So does David. We work for the government but we're both in classified sectors now, Daddy, and you know I can't talk about that. That's how we met. Be nice to him, Daddy. He's had some rough times lately and sometimes he zones out and he needs brought back. No big deal. Just annoying as hell."

Libby Franklin was not dumb. Neither was her husband. They both figured their eldest daughter was in the intelligence business – and she as much as confirmed it when she brought home that slick piece of work Larkin.

Libby had seen right through him. He was a narcissist and a probable sociopath but was perfect for the intelligence business. He was also the exact opposite of her daughter but he'd already begun molding her into his image of the perfect wife.

"Mom, you have to come meet David. He probably knows we're talking about him. He's not paranoid like the other one. We bought a house and I'm so damned happy. He insisted we come visit the minute I told him we were only 40 miles away from the 'ancestral home'. He wanted to stay at a motel and give me time to reconnect but it wouldn't be the same without him."

They were sitting around the kitchen table drinking coffee and David just sat back and watched his wife open up like a flower. If he thought she got excited when she talked back in Eden, that was nothing compared to how she was so open with her parents.

* * *

"You're not saying much, David. So tell us about you. Your parents must be very proud of you."

Libby was fishing. He was quiet and observant and offered comments where appropriate but she couldn't shake the feeling that behind that calm exterior was an analytical mind that examined everything it encountered, looking for surprises.

"Parents? Oh, yeah. Well, let's see. My mother left us on Mother's Day when I was 14 or so and hasn't been heard of or seen since. My dad sort of lost his bearings and one day he never came back. I don't know whether they were proud or not. I don't remember much about them, really. My mother was a med student at UCLA and my dad taught and did some kind of research at USC. I survived OK, went to Stanford and then found a job and met Holly and things have been great ever since."

Holly reached under the table and squeezed his hand. They'd never really discussed his folks and she was surprised at how much he said in so few words.

There were a few awkward glances between her parents and then the table burst into conversation as each sought out new and 'safe' subjects to discuss.

Their phone rang and Libby jumped up to answer it, glad for an excuse to step out of the kitchen and gather her thoughts.

Holly and David looked to be very happy together and they seemed to read each other's minds at times. She always took this to be a sign of a deep love and commitment and concern for the other partner. She felt very comfortable with her daughter's husband even if he felt awkward around them.

"Well, that was the younger daughter. She's coming by for the weekend. Holly, she's going to pester the hell out of you for all the details but please be patient with her. Her own relationships have all ended badly. Be nice to her - for me?"

"Mom, I'm not the one who creates the problems. She's always been the instigator. I promise to be extra nice. Besides, maybe we'll be able to spend time together now that we're located so close and get better at dealing with each other. What's she doing nowadays?"

"She works at that Black Cube at Fort Meade. She's a project manager for some hush-hush project and she's been spending a lot of time developing an upgrade. I don't know how she ended up working for the NSA. She was a international relations major, not a computer geek."

Holly suddenly became very interested in the tabletop and David knew she was surprised and probably upset that her sister worked for the NSA. This could be an interesting development.

'_I wonder if Beckman knows that Holly's sister works for her? I'd better ask to avoid any surprises. I can't believe she didn't say something.'_

He looked over and saw how pale she'd gotten and how her palm was sweating in his. He gave her hand a squeeze and shot her the special smile he used to sport when she'd stroll into the Buymore in her Weinerlicious get-up.

* * *

Chuck went out to the car and brought in the bag that she'd packed. He hadn't planned on spending more than a day here but he didn't want to rush Holly's time with her parents. She was really happy and he didn't want to spoil the mood.

She came out on the porch and then took him upstairs and showed him which room was going to be 'theirs' and helped him hang up everything.

"Baby, you were so smooth. My mother loves you and my Dad didn't kill you so I guess I can keep you."

"They caught me off guard with the parental thing. I never thought about it. I hope I didn't make it seem too mysterious. I just laid out the bare bones just like we said if we got into unknown territory."

"I'm going to put on something a lot more appropriate and then help my Dad feed the horses. It'll be my turn in the barrel. He didn't pester me with a thousand questions about you and us and that's not at all like him. What exactly did you say to him?"

"I asked him not to hassle you because you'd had enough crap from your last job and that's why we changed employers and moved here. Oh, by the way, we're not having kids until we can afford them. We 'killed' our savings buying the house, OK?"

She threw her arms around him and knocked them both to the bed. "Oh, David, kids? He asked about grandchildren? Oh, God, he loves you! He told Bryce…" She stopped and looked at him and her eyes filled with tears.

"I'm sorry, baby, but I brought Bryce here once. My parents hated him and that's why I stayed away so long. It was awkward and so I just avoided coming home and facing the Inquisition."

He kissed the tip of her nose and then wiped the tear hanging from her eyelash away with his thumb. "Go change and help the old man feed the stock. How many horses do you have here?"

"We breed and board and we have some rehab projects but I'm not sure. Last time I was here we had almost 80 Arabians of our own but _we_ only keep stallions for stud. The rest we sell. It's a living. There are horses we board for others and some rescue projects."

"Want some help? I can carry bales of hay around for you."

"David, this is a working horse farm, and it's been in the family for generations. We raise thoroughbreds and Arabians. We also stud for other farms and breeders. Almost everything is automated and we don't feed $100,000 horses hay. I'd like some alone-time with my dad. Why don't you go get some coffee, sit out on the porch and just relax for a bit or take a micro-nap? We'll be done before you know it. Please? I want to talk to him about us and about things in general."

"No problem. I'll just walk around and see what's up around here."

"Just watch out for the horse plops. The weekends are the worst since the crew is off. I'll catch up with you when we're through. Thanks for coming with me, baby. I love you."

She kissed him quickly, thought better of it and turned back and kissed him thoroughly.

"That'll hold you for a while." She went into the bathroom to change and then went to the stable office to find her father. Chuck went to get coffee and then walk around a bit.

* * *

Heather Franklin's Porsche hit over 80mph on the straightaway on the lane. It wasn't that she was in any hurry to get to her parents. She actually dreaded the time she spent there. It was always full of questions and judgments and those damned comparisons between her and her elder sibling.

'_If I just let go of the steering wheel, just let go and close my eyes, the big Elm that begins the arboreal promenade will take care of all my worries.'_

She released the wheel, squeezed her eyes tightly shut and leaned her head back against the headrest – and grabbed the wheel, opened her eyes and made the sharp drift turn onto the promenade.

She performed the ritual every time she visited Franklin Farms. This was the closest she'd come to driving through the fence and into the huge Elm.

'_Maybe next time.'_

She took her foot off the accelerator and braked sharply. It wouldn't do to hit one of the dogs. That would piss off the parental units to the max. She parked in the roundabout beside a nice little sedan. Force of habit made her touch the hood to feel the remaining engine heat and know about how long the driver had been there.

Taking a huge cleansing breath, she nodded to the dogs who maintained their distance, except for Samson who casually ambled over and gave her a sniff and then emptied his bladder against her front tire. She took another breath and trudged up the front steps like the condemned mounting the gallows.

She walked through the house and took in all the familiar and comfortable things that made this 'home' and walked out into the kitchen looking for her mom or dad.

'_I wonder who the sedan belongs to? They must be giving a prospect a tour. I need to check on my mare. It's almost to term.'_

Checking the time, she decided to check on her mare and walked up the back stairs to the second floor to change into 'horse clothes' before leaving. She unzipped her leather boots and unbuckled the belt on her tight leather pants and slipped into the jeans and work boots with a grateful sigh. She removed her sweater top and pulled on a flannel jac-shirt and went down to snatch some coffee and then check on her mare, Mirabelle.

* * *

A tall, well-built man with his back to her was pouring himself a cup of coffee and glanced at her reflection in the cupboard door.

"So that's what a beautiful horse farm worker dresses like? You'd look good in a gunny sack. Nice shirt. I didn't see that in the bag."

She decided to play along. This guy must be Holly's new boyfriend or another fiance or 'friend with benefits'. She walked up behind him and put her arms around his waist and leaned against him.

"I hope that's a cashmere gunny sack you have in mind. I don't like rough things against my skin. You know that."

"Yeah, I remember. Sorry about the whisker burn but I didn't exactly have the chance to shave in Syria while running with the SEALS and you _were _quite insistent at the airfield but I'm definitely clean-shaven now, Princess."

'_Syria? SEALS?'_

"I like it when you call me Princess." _'Pump him for more information. Syria?'_

He set his coffee cup down and turned around and she was so surprised that she kept her arms around him. He leaned down and caught her mouth in a kiss that held such tender promise that she felt tears building behind her closed eyelids.

"Holly, if I ever forget to tell you, you'll always be the most beautiful woman in the world to me and – and I love you." He looked into her eyes, startled for a moment at the tears and brought his hand to her cheek and caressed it.

"Babe, what's wrong? Why the tears?"

"That was beautiful compliment and I think that deserves another kiss." She wanted one more kiss before she explained who she was. Just one more. His tongue gently caressed her lips and she sucked it into her mouth thoroughly enjoying the feelings and sensations this stranger was eliciting.

"_**Heather Franklin!**__ –_ What the hell are you doing to my husband?"

Heather broke the kiss and stepped back as far as she could. He still had his arms loosely around her waist. She noted the shocked look of hurt and surprise when he looked at her.

He stepped back against the counter and looked at Holly and then back at her several times before saying, "Twins? You didn't tell me your sister was your identical twin! You said she was your younger sister! What the hell, indeed! Explain this to me, Holly!" His voice was ragged and he was pissed!

"David, she _is_ my younger sister – "

"By eight damned minutes, Holly, eight minutes!" Heather hated being reminded she was the baby of the family.

"And we're not identical – she has moles on her ass cheek – big ones, black ones, and they have hair growing out of them!" Holly was quick to point out their differences.

"I had them removed when I was 13, Holly, remember? At least I didn't need braces! Snaggle-toothed brat. Had to wear braces for how long?"

Her parents came into the kitchen and stood in the doorway to the kitchen listening and fighting off grins. Heather had pulled her 'substitution trick' on David but it looked like it had gotten out of hand judging by the look on Holly's face.

David eased himself away from Heather and stood between the feuding sisters, looking at Holly with a worried look on his face.

"I think it was supposed to be a joke, baby, and I fell for it until I realized that I didn't feel anything for her. I knew on the second kiss that it wasn't you. I always get this funny feeling in my stomach when we kiss and it wasn't there with her. See?"

He pulled her into a soul-scorching kiss that left him with the 'tingling' he hadn't felt when he kissed her sister. She moaned into his mouth but broke off the kiss when she remembered that they had quite the audience. Oh, how he'd pay for that stunt. She tried not to grin.

Heather felt something she'd never experienced before – mature jealousy. She spat out, "It's probably nausea. She makes everyone sick with her – "

"Enough. My God, you two picked up almost exactly where you left off. Heather, apologize to your sister and your brother-in-law, David. Holly, give your sister a hug and tell her you love her. Make it right, girls."

Libby had twenty-some years of experience dealing with these two. Sometimes she wished she'd written down what she'd said or done when they were growing up. She could live on the profits of the book she'd have written.

It had taken all his courage to tell her he loved her. He still had issues to overcome but he worked up the nerve and – it was her sister!

A/N: Well into the Renaissance. Rebirth – but of what?


	22. Chapter 22

E/N: Thank you all for the reviews. Now, let's talk about nasty PMs. I am a married woman and you Canadians think you can make lewd suggestions? Well...some of them were interesting. Here's another chapter. He's not sleeping so either do I. I'll be a corpse tomorrow but Tuesdays are light. Thanks again fro the reviews.

Well-hootered Cajun hunnie (aka Nik)

* * *

A Slip of the Tongue Chapter 23

Heather went to check on her mare that was almost to term with her colt. The little bugger was going to win the Triple Crown some day or she'd have him terminated – no, she'd never do that to a horse. She'd keep him around until one of them died. She had a soft spot for animals. It was people she had such a hard time dealing with.

Chuck excused himself from the table and walked out to the front porch to take a 'business call'.

"Cain, secure but in public, sort of." He hated the protocols and messed with them whenever possible. You never know when someone might actually listen to one of his calls and he wanted to show them what he thought of their protocols.

"Hey, moron. I'm non-secure but then you'd know that if you bothered to check the little thingy in the lower right hand corner of the display. Where the hell are you? I'm been sitting in your driveway for an hour. Didn't Beckman tell you to expect us?"

"No. I haven't heard from the General since before I left for another place entirely. Who's 'us'?" He wasn't going to blurt out 'Syria' to anyone with a scanner and the decryption key (Fulcrum, of course).

"Damn it. OK, 'us' is me, your new team coordinator and my partner, Selena Vargas. She's one of your wife's 'friends' if you know what I mean." She was CIA.

"We're at her folks' home and won't be back until Tuesday unless it's a pressing matter. And if it is, it better be the end of the damned world, John. She's happy and getting better every minute we're here. Got me?"

"Unwad those panties, boy. We just stopped by to do the 'meet and greet'. Since your wife's going abroad on Wednesday, we'll meet for lunch in town sometime. Vargas is chomping at the bit to meet the 'skin covered computer' boy."

"Fine but will you watch your mouth? Not everyone in the opposition is stupid. Give me a call later. Hey, I'm glad that asshole didn't kill you, Casey. I owe you for the warning call. I just barely got out of there with what I had on."

"Yeah, I heard. I'll be in touch. Don't screw up, moron. And 'you're welcome', Chuck."

"Jesus, Casey, we're not secure and you're pulling a Walker on me. Shut your yap. He's dead and buried. David Cain is alive and happy as a pig in shit. Talk with you later. Call secure next time. It doesn't cost anything extra, y'know?"

He closed his phone and chuckled. Casey and a new partner working with him and Holly. Life was sure interesting. '_Amy not Holly. Focus!'_

* * *

He started to return to the kitchen for coffee and more 'tales of the twins' when he noticed a horse stagger over to the rail of the pipe fencing surrounding a paddock. It had walked right into the rail as if…it was blind! He walked down slowly so as not to spook it and began talking quietly.

The horse sensed him and made noises and he gently touched its nose like he'd seen the cowboys do in the movies. It didn't bolt and seemed satisfied with the company. David spoke quietly and found himself telling the blind horse all about Syria and his problems with Holly.

Heather walked out on the porch. She's been tasked to apologize for her joke and bring David back to the table. He'd excused himself to take a 'business call' and hadn't returned and it was becoming noticeable.

She saw him talking to the blind stud that still had a few good years left. He just had a problem finding the mares, not impregnating them. Her dad didn't believe in artificial insemination and their figures at the farm were better than the artificial's. Whatever worked.

Heather quietly walked up behind him and eavesdropped. She'd get his attention, make her apology and then 'escort' him back to the house.

She saw that David seemed to have a natural way with horses. He talked quietly and made no sudden movements and kept in physical contact with the blind horse at all times.

The old nag got bored and started butting his hand looking for some sugar.

"Hey, I'll bring something next time. I wasn't prepared to have a conversation with a blind horse, y'know? Now, like I was saying, the damned guard came out of nowhere and the SEAL who was babysitting me was nowhere to be found so I…so I killed him, wiped the knife off on his shirt and went back to flashing and photographing crates and scientific junk. Except for blowing away some Fulcrum bad guys I'd never killed anyone before – not so up-close and personal like. Does that make me a bad person, stud?"

The old stallion whinnied and shook his head as if say 'no' and David laughed.

"We spent the next few days on the run, literally. Man, I could have used you there. I had a hard time keeping up and I was sweating bullets that they'd leave me behind if I couldn't keep up. But I did. We got ambushed and almost got bagged but I was a good fifty meters behind them and when the bad guys tried to advance, well, stud, I was behind them and shot the shit outta them with my trusty AKM. The SEALs think I'm some kind of John Wayne but I was just trying to survive, y'know?"

The old horse shivered as if it sensed his fear.

"I see them at night, old man. I see them in my sleep. They don't say anything, they just look at me. I can't sleep and I'm afraid to dream. Big bad David Cain is a coward, stud. Holly got stuck with a coward and she's so damned brave. I can't let her know, y'know? Job or no job, she'd leave me just like – "

Heather thought she heard his voice break with a sob and started forward, needing to connect with him and let him know he wasn't alone when he started talking again.

"I don't mean to bore you. Let's talk about you, OK? So, you got old and they put you out to pasture, huh? Well, all you have to do is put your head down and there's food. Finding the fillies must be a real challenge though. Catching them must be impossible and frustrating. But here's what you do… you wait. That's all."

"You wait and the right one will find you if it's meant to be. But you have to be patient, don't scare her off with any sudden moves because she already knows you're broken, dude, and broken means you're not worthy. Now amble on over to the other fence and take up a manly stance and just wait. Trust me, if she wants you, she'll find you."

The horse looked at the source of the voice and snorted. "Don't believe me? You're smarter than I thought. It never worked for me either but you sure won't know if it'll work for you until you try so move your ass and take up that manly stance we talked about." He watched for a few minutes as the blind horse carefully picked its way across the meadow and leaned against the other fence.

Chuck sighed and walked to the porch. Heather was sitting there waiting.

"I owe you and apology, David. If I'd known you were married I never would have kissed you. " _'And I wouldn't be eaten up with envy for my sister's luck in getting to you first'._

"It was funny but not to her. I have to admit though, if it wasn't for the missing feeling, I'd never have known the difference. Even your voice and inflection seem identical."

"Yeah, well, I'm still sorry. I've never seen her so upset. You'll never have to worry about Holly, David. She's yours forever. She never got that upset about Bryce, even when she…well, if she wants you to know that story she'll tell it to you. Not one of my proudest moments."

David told her he accepted her apology and let the subject drop.

"So, do you love her?"

"Yeah, I do. What's not to love?" He was thinking back to his 'first marriage – not so much to love but something was there to hint at a future. Now his second marriage – that held promise. Especially after today. Yeah, he didn't feel like he was lying to her sister.

"So now we call you the 'Blind Horse Whisperer'? Pretty subtle advice you give, David. Not very proactive though. I caught the tail end of your advice and then came here to 'give you guys privacy'."

"Well, the rejection rate is fairly low and it does save the male ego."

"Do you really believe what you told that old blind horse?"

"It doesn't matter what I believe, Heather. It's what _he_ believes that's important. Just check it out." He pointed over across the pasture to where the old horse had suddenly been found by two very interested females.

"David, how the hell did you do that?"

"I have no idea. Wish I did, though."

Grabbing him by the hand, Heather pulled him toward the stables. "Well, come on, I'll give you a walk-through of the place, show you where we keep the expensive horses. Maybe you can talk them into running faster."

* * *

Holly went in search of her husband and her sister, the brazen slut, and found them in the stall with the pregnant mare.

"Put your hand here, David. Feel that? In a week it will be walking around nursing from its mama and pooping all over the stall. In three months it'll be running with the big guys. This is what life is all about. Bringing in new life to replace the old. When I get fed up with life I come here and get rejuvenated."

"Any idea of the sex? A boy or a girl?" He was fascinated by all of this. In all his years he'd never been around animals bigger than a dog and he was both intimidated and enthralled with horses.

"There you are, David. I was afraid that Heather had dragged you back to the hay barn and had her way with you." Her voice sounded normal but David could see from the look on her face that she wasn't really kidding.

"Isn't this cool, baby? I've been getting lessons on farm management from your sister, the horse lady."

"Holly, David talked to old Hercules and the next thing I knew he was knickering around two of the mares. There's still some life in the old guy. I call your husband 'Whispers to Blind Horses'."

Holly felt a surge of jealousy but quashed it. He'd already proven himself to her in so many ways. She had nothing to worry about. David liked people and they liked him. She was surprised at Heather's open manner and friendliness.

"What did you and old Herc talk about, sweetheart? Secrets from the mancave?"

"Uh, nothing really. I just told him that he had to be patient and if she wanted him she'd be patient and find him. That's all. No secret. Just the way life works out for the most part. What's supposed to be generally will be. Sometimes it takes longer than one of the two people have the patience for and then they never get together. Patience and faith."

He'd looked at her the entire time, stared at her really, and she knew he was talking about them.

"I'm not known for my patience, David, but I do have faith."

"Then everything will be as it should be."

Heather was observant and knew that there was a clearly worded subtext to what David was saying. Holly's response had been less clear. Were they having problems? They'd been married 3 ½ years and David had told her father to go easy on her because of something that happened to her on her last job.

"I came to find you two and drag you back to the house. Mom and Daddy are going into Baltimore to meet a buyer for dinner and we're on our own. Any ideas?"

They both looked at each other and said "Pizza!"

* * *

David and Holly drove into East York to pick up the pizza and the conversation was lively and fun until Holly mentioned that Heather had a bad habit.

"David, please be careful around my sister. We're very competitive and, well, she's always had to have what I have from sweaters to men. That's why I was so pissed when I found you two in each others arms sucking face." She tried to make light of it but it bothered her.

"Holly, I told you it was a joke and I fell for it. She looked like you in the cabinet reflection and I already told you when and how I knew it wasn't you. Let's just laugh it off. There's only one Franklin I'm interested in 'sucking face' with – my Princess."

"Good answer. Just please be careful around her. She's sneaky and devious and – "

"Ah, a typical woman. Seriously, you're the only woman I'm interested in. Just be patient with me and don't throw me any curves. I love this new 'you' and I don't think it would be bad if you brought a lot of 'Holly' into Amy and David's marriage. I like her. And I can learn to tolerate her sister."

Sarah Walker died quietly right there in that moving sedan on a 1-lane road outside of East York. The kick-ass ninja spy girl sitting in the seat beside her husband felt lighter and happier than she could remember.

"I love you, Chuck. I love Charles Carmichael. But I love and cherish and adore David Cain. I'll be patient, baby, and wait as long as it takes. That's what you were trying to tell me before, wasn't it? To be patient and have faith in us? I do, I really do."

* * *

A/N: This is the end of The Renaissance. Think about what the word means and maybe you'll figure it out.


	23. Chapter 23

Editor's Notes: OK, here's another one for you to complain about. That's TWO! Review pls.

Nikki

* * *

A Slip of the Tongue Chapter 24

Amy drove back to Hansen's Ferry and David catnapped. He and Holly's dad had sat out on the back porch talking and drinking beer until Libby and Holly had gone to pour their respective husbands into bed.

"David, what did you and Heather talk about when she saw you with the blind horse? She acted so sad and I don't know if you noticed, but she didn't kid around with you like she did before."

"We didn't talk about anything. She was sitting on the porch when I finished up with the horse and asked about my 'advice' and then took me to talk to the expensive horses and tell them to run faster. Then we checked on Mirabelle and her foal. You overheard what we were talking about. Why the 20 questions?"

"When she left this morning she'd been crying. Her eyes were swollen and her face was puffy. She hugged me goodbye, David, and she _never_ does that. Do you think she's in some kind of trouble?"

"I'll get Casey to snoop around while you're gone. He's an old hand at NSA intrigue and if anyone can find out if she's in trouble it'll be Casey."

"Thanks. Will you come with me to Meade for my briefing? I know you won't be able to sit in but you can check out where you'll be working and what you'll be doing while I get briefed. And then we can go home and debrief." She had that twinkle in her eye that meant she'd been thinking about it for some time and was horny.

"Yeah. I want to talk to the techs about a refill. It's been more than 18 months since the initial download and there's a lot of fresh intel I'm missing. Some of it might be mission critical."

"Listen to you – the guy who wanted nothing more than to screw Sarah Walker to the wall some night – talking like a real spy."

"Suppose one little tiny bit of information missing from the mess in my head gets one of us killed? I can't take that risk, Holly, not with you."

"Hey, I was kidding. I know it's a serious business, David, but we left Holly in East York. Amy and David are back but some of Holly made the trip."

"I don't see Amy Cain when I look at you. I see Holly Franklin Cain, my wife. I know it's wrong but it's the way I'm wired. I just found her and I don't want to fuck it up, OK?"

"OK. But we're back in the cover, my love, so call me Amy. But you can call me anything you want when we're alone and safe."

* * *

They reported in to 'Human Resources', were scanned, fingerprinted, and issued ID cards with their photograph on them. Amy's had a white border with a small red stripe diagonally across the printing. So did David's and Amy noticed this right away."

"There's been a mistake here. He's not an 'all access' agent. He's not an agent. He's an asset and a technical consultant."

"No, Agent Cain. See right here. General Beckman authorized it and that's his badge. It's the correct level for 'all access'. The general's email is right here and it's quite specific."

She read the email twice and it was the correct designation. Apparently he'd gone through 'compressed training' and based on his Team Bartowski mission performance, his Escape and Evasion 'exercise' and the SEAL mission, she'd changed his classification to 'Agent – All Access'.

She turned and pinned the badge to David's suit coat and whispered, "I'm so proud of you, _Agent_ David Cain, and you'll get your reward when we get home."

* * *

Amy Cain reported in to General Beckman's office for briefing. An aide gave her a folder to study and a schedule of meetings in London's MI-6. Her departure date was still Wednesday and the General's aide told her that the time line on the mission was between 7 and 10 days.

"General Beckman wanted to meet with you personally and asks that you meet her in the executive dining room at 12:45 for lunch. She is currently meeting with Intersect candidates and Agent Cain will be joining you for lunch. There is a conference room reserved for you and please remember to return the briefing folder to the General's secretary when you're finished."

* * *

David made his way through the maze of cubicles until he found A-41 and sat down in the side chair and waited for the arrival of Intersect's administrator. Somehow he was disappointed in his first visit to the NSA's Headquarters. He'd expected – he didn't expect an organizational layout that looked like an insurance company clerical pool.

He heard someone 'tapping' down the uncarpeted 'corridor' between the cubicles and recognized the sound of boots on the floor tiles. Sarah Walker's boots made that same sound on the hardwood floors of his apartment back in Burbank.

"Sorry to keep you wait – David! What the hell are you doing here?" Heather took in the surprised look on her brother-in-law's face and his ID card clipped to his suit coat and made a series of rapid connections.

"_You're _Charles Bartowski? Does Holly know? Jesus Christ! All that crap you told Mom and Daddy – and she – it's all a bullshit NSA cover, isn't it? You don't love my sister – you're playing her for a cover. Wait! she's an agent – oh! Good God in Heaven – _you're_ an agent, too?"

"Good morning, Ms. Franklin. I think you'd better bring down the volume or, better yet, let's take this family reunion to a secure place. Not another word or question, Heather, until we're in a secure environment, understand? You've already blown my cover with your big mouth! It must run in the damned family."

Heather knew he was right. This did need to be discussed in a secure room – a very secure room.

"Follow me, Agent. I've got a conference room reserved and we can 'discuss' this without worrying about being overheard. This way please."

She led him across the office to a door where an armed Military Policeman sat at a small table with only a clipboard in front of him. He carried a 9mm pistol in a polished leather holster. When they approached, he stood up, taking his clipboard in hand and scanned their IDs and then keyed a code into a keypad and the door opened with a loud metallic click.

"You'll have to leave your cell phone with me, Agent- um - Cain. You can pick it up when you leave."

They walked down a dimly lit corridor lined on both sides with doors, some of which had red lights above the jam but most were green. Heather saw his interest.

"Red light above the door means it's in use. Green is empty. These rooms are swept hourly for bugs and each is equipped with jamming equipment."

She continued on until she reached 'her' conference room and keyed in a code and the electronic lock clicked and she walked in, flipped on the lights and sat down.

"Start talking, _David. _Who are you and why are you here in this building and why is _Charles Bartowski_ on my appointment list but you were in my cubicle?"

"Not a word until I speak with General Beckman. This stuff is code word and I have no idea of your clearances so, _sister-in-law_, get her on the horn and let me talk to her. No approval from the general means no cooperation from me. Not a word, Ms. Franklin."

They sat there glaring at each other for what seemed like hours but was really only a few minutes when the lock on the conference room door clicked and General Beckman walked in with an aide and sat down.

David stood automatically and Beckman noted it and smiled. "Good morning, Agent Cain. This is Major Pittman and you will liaise with her on all matters pertaining to your missions. Now, let us get down to business, shall we?"

David was surprised that the general was not at least six feet tall. She had 'command presence' and he'd expected someone…taller, not a little old lady who was probably only a millimeter taller than the minimum height requirement for Army service.

"I'm sure Assistant Director Franklin has briefed you as to why you're here this morning. Do you agree with the proposed download or do you have…questions?"

"General, _he refused_ to allow any discussion until he was assured by you personally that I was authorized to discuss the Intersect and his – his 'arrangements' with the _other_ Agent Cain. Nothing has been discussed. We've wasted valuable time – "

"If you knew his background and history, Ms. Franklin, you'd be in complete agreement with him. Almost everyone he's come into contact with has either betrayed him or proven grossly incompetent to handle him – your sister included. It was because of her gross incompetence that he had to leave the perfect cover environment and abandon his family in order to keep the Intersect secure."

The look Heather was glaring at David softened and she noticed that he didn't sport a look of triumph but rather one of dismay. He actually believed in his cover! He thought it was 'for real'!

'_My God – he loves her and she's playing him for the cover! That Bitch! She hasn't changed at all.'_

"Now, Agent Cain and his wife are trained and experienced in working the Intersect to maximum advantage and Mr. Cain has pointed out that the information is stale and nothing has been updated in more than 18 months. That's why we're here – to finalize arrangements for the 'refresher' download and to ensure that safeguards are in place that will preclude the unfortunate events that killed Director Graham and almost the entire programming and neurology staff involved with the Project."

Heather's voice was soft and reminiscent of their first meeting in the kitchen in Franklin.

"David, we're taken out all the information you already have downloaded and stored it offline. The only imagery in the new download dates from the initial download date. Security has been tight and only four people have been permitted to enter data or have access to the programs we've reconstructed from backups and programmer notes. It should be safe to take the download, David. Don't be afraid."

David snorted and then looked at the General. "OK, let's do it. I have a dinner date and I don't want to be late. And sometime in the near future, Major, when you have the time, I'd like to talk to you about counseling. I'm carrying around some emotional baggage that I need to purge or control."

'_Syria. He's talking about Syria.' _

Heather remembered his comments to their blind stud horse. She wondered if he'd talked to her sister about it at all or was he playing the macho role and ignoring it until now?

The general and her aide left first and David stood and looked at Heather with something like amusement. "Are we going to do this, or what?"

"David, I still have some questions. Please sit down. It will only take a second, I promise you and then we'll head down to the technical section and do the download, OK? Please?"

"Fine. Ask away. I reserve the right to not comment on operations or related issues. Fair enough?"

"Fair enough. Does my sister know you're playing her for a cover?"

"She's playing _me, _Heather. She was my handler until I made agent status and that was not until this morning when we checked in."

"My sister is not playing you, David, believe me. My sister loves you. It's as plain as the nose on your face." _'Oh, I hope so!"_

"If she loses the cover, she's out of a job and the job is all she has. Of course she's in character with the role she has to play. Four months after Larkin sent me the download she blew my cover. It was a slip of the tongue but almost cost us the whole team."

"How long have you two been together?" She was fishing.

"Since last October when Larkin sent me the damned email. We've been apart a lot of that time. She was hurt on a mission and had severe injuries that required hospitalization and then she had to have plastic surgery done and it was during that recovery period that I escaped an extraction attempt by Fulcrum under my cover name of Charles Carmichael. Beckman has had us married from the first cover in Eden."

"Is it a 'marriage of convenience' or a real marriage? I can't see her marrying you or anyone else without loving them first. She stayed engaged to Larkin for almost 4 years because she wasn't sure."

"For her it was the cover. For me, it was hard. She wanted out and back in the show. She didn't handle being in exile well at all. After she was hurt I saw some changes and I could have made it work but then Fulcrum tried to snatch me and shot my other partner and I had to run. This one is real for me. I hear what she says and I hear what you say but – it all happened too fast, Heather. One day she can't stand me and 6 months later she's professing undying love and we were only together a month or two out of those six. She's living the cover and making the best of it."

"Do you love Holly at all, David? Even a little bit?"

"I fell in love with Holly Franklin within minutes of meeting her. It's Sarah and Amy that I'm struggling with."

"That doesn't make any damned sense, David. They're the same person."

"Holly is my wife in here," he pointed to his chest, "but the others, they're out here in the real world. They're constructs. It's not her fault. It's what she has to do for the job. Look, this isn't getting us anywhere. No matter what I say, you'll still form your own opinion. I won't ever betray any of them. I won't leave them, either. No. That'll be their role in this little play of ours."

"Can we talk about this later, after the download and after you're comfortable with the data? She's my sister, David, and I love her and her happiness is important to me. You're definitely not Larkin and he was slowly turning her into his image of the perfect little agent/wife."

"Until he almost killed her and left her in a basement to bleed to death. I hope to God I'm nothing like him."


	24. Chapter 24

Nik's Notes: Here's another one. Things are in flux here. More on that maybe Thursday. Not sure if I'll have the time. He's been readmitted and I've got to spend time on the job (damn it) and of course with my guy.

Be good to yourselves. Review pls. Thanks again for all the positive comments. See, I can be nice.

Cajun Hooters

* * *

_A Slip of the Tongue Chapter 25_

"Don't be afraid, David. This won't hurt a bit. I promise." Heather stared into David's dark eyes as she tightened the final strap across his chest. She put drops in his eyes, patted his cheek and left the room and entered the control room. She put on her special glasses and told the technician to begin running the program.

His eyes followed her out of the room since she swayed deliciously exactly like Holly and he noticed that his new minder, Major Pittman was also on hand, and seemed to be loading program CDs into the carousel that ran the download.

The images started flashing on the screen in front of him and he stiffened in his restraints, all thoughts of his new minder gone.

* * *

Heather glanced at the countdown clock and shivered. It had only been 3 minutes and he'd already absorbed 8% of the data. She made notes on her computer pad and then checked the physical monitors again. His heart monitor showed an increase in heart rate and blood pressure but it was all within the norms.

Major Pittman excused herself saying that she had to inform the general that the download process had begun.

'_I wonder what they talk about? What do they have in common? In 18 months they've only been together 6 and that had been in bits and pieces. He said that there were two marriages because of a change in his deep cover status. Was he right? Was Holly, in her persona of Sarah Carmichael and Amy Cain, playing him? Surely the job wasn't more important than the man she claimed to love?'_

An alarm chimed and she glanced at the throughput percentage – 88% in 44 minutes. She felt a frisson of fear when she looked at the cardiac read out and the blood pressure – climbing into the amber zone.

"Kill the alarm. We're at 88% data transferred with an estimated retention of 96%. That will have to do. Prepare to discontinue the download. Alert medical and send a message to the general that we're aborting the down – "

The room was plunged into darkness and the automatic backups failed to engage. The program should have discontinued when the power to the control room failed – but it didn't. All monitoring was offline and Heather hit the panic button – literally – that automatically summoned medical and security personnel and locked down the floor.

The download continued and she swore the flickering images seemed to increase and then she heard a loud bang and the download room lost power and the emergency lighting kicked on. She bent down to pick up something she'd knocked off the desk – she never remembered what – when there was an explosion in the download room. The pressure wave blew out the large window that separated the two rooms and the glass killed every technician in the room – except the blonde woman lying on the floor, stunned and covered with glass and blood and pieces of her coworkers.

* * *

She remembered thinking that it wasn't even 10AM and her day was already in the shitter when she remembered the test subject.

"_David_!"

* * *

He woke up with a killer headache a few minutes after the doctors had completed their initial exam. He cracked open one eye and saw his wife standing beside the gurney and being gently moved out of the way as they worked on him but she kept coming back to stand beside him. She was crying. Oh, shit. _'What did I do wrong now?'_ Something was wrong with his eye. Everything was gray and blurred but he knew the sound of his wife.

He must have zoned out again because the next thing he knew the loud guy was back.

"Agent Cain? David Cain? Can you hear me?" Someone was shouting in his ear and he wished the guy would chill out. His head was a throbbing mass of twitching pains, his eyes were burning. And his face _itched! _He heard Holly standing there, saying his name over and over. He smiled.

"Hey, Holly! I'm alright. No problems. Gimme a minute or two and I'll be on my feet."

She looked at him in horror and turned away and started to sob into some guy's chest. _'Who the fuck is messing with my Princess?'_

Now he was scared. Someone forced his mouth open and stuffed a rubber hose or something down his throat and he gagged and tried to push them away but he heard someone shout '_He's seizing! Hold him down!' _

He felt a prick in his arm and a nurse hung an IV bag from a pole on the gurney and then injected something into his IV port. He tried to stay awake but it was a losing battle.

* * *

The next time he woke up it was to the dulcet tones of Diane Beckman just outside his room threatening someone with extinction if they didn't find out how someone could sabotage a high security installation and then _find_ that someone and make them pay for killing her download team.

'_Oh, crap. I'll bet they end up blaming me. I didn't touch a damned thing. I was in restraints. I didn't do it, honest!' _

He thought about what she said and he felt lightheaded and he knew how it was done. He knew who did it and when and…shit! Heather was in the control room. Heather was – dead? Oh, shit. Holly would need him. He needed to get out of these damned restraints.

"Agent Cain, calm down. You're OK and your injuries are relatively minor. I'm going to release the restraints and then get the mask off and you'll be able to talk. You have quite a crowd waiting to see you. Two gorgeous twins are especially anxious. Tell me, just between us guys – how do you agents do it? I mean you always get the most beautiful – "

He grabbed the gabby doctor by the throat and wheezed and rasped out "Get General Beckman, asshole, and lock down this facility. Sabotage! Pittman is – " He ran out of air and the doctor ran out of the room.

"What is it, Agent Cain? Can you hear me?" Beckman was leaning over him and he put his free hand around the back of her neck and pulled her down close to his face. It was dark in the room and he needed to whisper anyway.

For a fleeting instant the General thought he was going to kiss her but he whispered that Pittman was the traitor and had messed with the discs. He ran out of air and released her and she marched from the room and organized the search for the suddenly AWOL Major Valerie Pittman.

He was out of breath and suddenly very tired again. _'What the hell do they have me on?'_

"Hey, baby, it's me, Amy. No! Don't try to talk. You did real good, David. Beckman's on the prowl for Pittman and she won't get far. You need this oxygen thing on because you got lungs full of smoke and this will help you breathe. You'll be breathing on your own tomorrow according to the doctor."

He tried to ask her about Heather but she put her fingertips over his lips and then slipped the mask back on. Breathing was immediately better but he knew that he wouldn't be understood very well.

"H – Heather? Is she OK?" _'Why won't someone turn on the damned lights?'_

"She's fine and waiting outside with the others to see you. She got knocked down by the pressure wave but she's OK. You, my love, are a different story. You had a face full of glass from the monitor but they got it all out. Your eyes – your eyes took a beating - but you'll be fine in a few days and can get the patches off. No vision problems, David, I promise you."

"London trip?" He wanted to know if she was going to be there when he got out or if he'd have to put up with another team of handlers.

"Not going to happen. Beckman's orders. Someone sabotaged the download and Beckman wants us on the case. Once Pittman's captured and interrogated, we're tasked with pursuing whoever paid her. Oh, Casey's outside with his new partner. We're a team of four now. She's cute and has the big guy wrapped around her little finger. Us CIA chicks are _so_ cool."

"Princess…" He had to tell her something before he fell asleep.

He called her 'Princess' and that meant he had something to say to Holly not Amy, not for the cover. She leaned down to hear him.

"I'm right here, baby. What is it?"

"I – I lo –" He lost his fight to the drugs.

"What? I didn't hear you. David? David! Wake up, David. What did you say? Damn it, damn it, damn it!"

* * *

She left the room and closed the door. He'd sleep on and off for hours before the sedatives wore off. They'd been very lucky today, both of them.

* * *

She said he was sleeping so the group of well wishers ambled down to the cafeteria for coffee and conversation. This was the NSA facility and they could speak freely for once.

Heather lagged behind, deep in thought, and turned and went back to David's room. She didn't like the idea of him being left alone even in the bowels of the NSA.

She slipped into the darkened room and pulled up a visitor's chair and took his hand in hers and started talking to him in a low voice. She told him about her relationship with Bryce Larkin that went on for a few years behind her sister's back and got intense when Larkin and Sarah Walker were split up and she was assigned to Burbank.

"I had no idea what a monster he was, David, honestly. I thought he loved me and I sure as hell loved him. It was wrong but to me it felt so damned right and now I find out he tried to kill my big sis, mutilated her and left her to die. I'm glad the bastard's dead. I just wish I could have killed him myself for what he did."

David was awake and had been for some time. He didn't say a thing, just worked at staying awake. Her words explained so much and he wanted her to know that her sister would forgive her if she just asked.

"You've made Holly happy in a way I've never seen before. You two are so right for each other. Don't give up on her. I know you two have unresolved 'issues' but please, David, don't turn away from her. She's like that horse you talked to. She's broken. Fix her, David. Don't leave her."

He squeezed her hand slightly as if waking up. He tried to roll over to face her voice but groaned as muscles protested working again and he pulled stitches in his neck and shoulders.

"David, I'm Heather, Heather Franklin. Are you in pain? Do you need the nurse? You're going to be fine. You just got a little banged up. Don't worry about the eyes. It's just flash blindness and some crap from the monitor."

He whispered and she had to get closer to hear him. "Casualties?" If someone had told him, he'd forgotten.

"Everyone but me is dead. There was a power surge and then everything went dead except the program kept running and I saw a sudden increase in downloaded image rates and then everything blew up. You and I were damned lucky, David."

"Sorry, but glad you're OK. Pittman messed with discs. Tell Beckman. Sabotage."

"Shhh. She knows, David, she knows. You told her yourself. Go back to sleep and I'll stay until someone else comes. Amy isn't going to London. Beckman wants your 'team' together and hunting. Go back to sleep. Your wife will be here before too long. Tell her you love her. She needs to hear it. She was really scared. So unlike her. Remember the blind horse."

Amy noticed that her sister was missing from the table at the cafeteria and worried that she'd felt 'unwelcome' among the agents but nothing was farther from the truth.

"Has anyone seen my sister? She was right behind me in the hallway. I'll be right back. Order us both coffee with cream and sugar, please?" She backtracked hoping to run into her sister but ended up at David's room door and quietly opened it.

"Hey, Heather. What's wrong?" She heard her sister sniffling and saw her wiping her eyes on her sleeve.

"Today just caught up with me and I came in here to sit with him. I didn't want him waking up alone and in the dark thinking the worst. He woke up for a few seconds and asked about 'casualties' and about Pittman but then fell back to sleep."

"I forgot that you lost your whole team this morning. I'm sorry. I was worried about him and forgot about you. Forgive me, Squirt?"

"Yeah. Listen. Back at the Farm when you asked me what I overheard him talking about to the horse – I lied. I didn't want him to be embarrassed. He told the horse about some stuff in Syria with the SEALS. He's not a real spy, is he, Sis? He felt guilty about killing a guard with a knife and then just going about his business. You and Bryce, you never think about that stuff, do you?"

"No. We're trained to compartmentalize everything. Like that Marley song, '_Don't Worry, Be Happy'. _The problem is that one day you run out of compartments or nothing will fit in them anymore and then you end up burnt out and popping happy pills. That's what happened to me. That's why I was in Burbank and after Bryce – "

"David doesn't know about compartments, Holly. He hasn't had the training. He needs to talk to someone or maybe just you. He's a good man, Holly, and you deserve a good man. Don't let this eat him up and make him less than he is."

"I promise, Heather. But I'm still working on deserving him. I was so mean to him. He called me The Bitch and I was. I made him take me to dinner in Eden and I got drunk deliberately and then picked up a guy at the bar and danced as filthy as I could just – just taunting him. I wasn't going to screw the guy, I just wanted Chuck to feel as hurt and empty as I did."

"That's about the time Larkin showed up and got his hooks into you again, wasn't it?" It was a pattern with those two…a very destructive pattern.

"Yeah, but Chuck knocked the guy on his ass and threw me over his shoulder and took me home. Then I got sick and he cleaned me up and took care of me. I was so damned ashamed but I took it out on him."

"He doesn't seem like the caveman type to me."

"Looks can be deceiving, little sis. And after I got out of the hospital the first time at Christmas he gave me this." She held out her medallion necklace. "He said I was his Guardian Angel – after all the shit I gave him."

"Let me guess. You got him nothing for Christmas, right? And you felt guilty? You bitch!" She smiled to take any sting out of it.

There was a lull in the conversation as each was lost in their own thoughts. "Who's Chuck? You called him 'Chuck'."

"That's who he used to be. Charles Bartowski and then Charles Carmichael and now he's David."

"Let's get some coffee and then come back up here and talk, Holly. It's been too long between talks. I think he'll be OK for a short time. I miss you, big sis, and all the fun we used to have. Maybe we can get together from time to time now that you live in Hansen's Ferry?"

"He'd like us to be sisters again. I'm all the family he has left, Heather. He had to give up all he had for the damned job. Yeah. He'd like that a lot."

"He's got us now, Holly. He's not alone."


	25. Chapter 25

Nik's Notes: This wil have to do ya for a while. Jim's back in hospital and I'm spending all my free time there. Sorry. Thanks for all the well-wishes.

Nicole F Barnes

* * *

A Slip of the Tongue Chapter 26

Amy Cain was very careful what she said and did around David in the days following the bombing and with good reason. He was a damned bear!

"Amy, how much longer do I have to stay in this damned bed and when are they going to get these damned patches off? I can't see and I feel so damned useless. I have to be led around like a damned blind man. This sucks supremely."

She hopped up beside him on the bed. She knew exactly how he felt – helpless and that made him afraid although he'd never admit it in a hundred years.

"David, it's just for a few more days. You'll get your stitches out and the bandages off and you'll be able to walk around and see what happened for yourself. Now, listen up while I read the next intel daily entry."

She was patient with him. He was not. She'd caught him trying to cut the bandages off his eyes more than once and the doctor had threatened him with restraints if he did it again. He just smirked and told the doctor to kiss his ass.

* * *

The only bright spot was when Casey and his new partner, Selena Vargas, came to visit. She was not the typical CIA agent. She was…real. While Casey and his old partner, Sarah Walker, caught up and then finally had briefed one another through the Carmichael period and he relented and called her 'Amy', Selena was pestering David for intel on her partner that wasn't found in any briefing books or files.

"So, David, you and Blondie are married for real and for the cover? Cool. How'd you manage that trick? Apparently Big John the Eternal Bachelor even vetoed a 'cover marriage'. So, tell me, David, how do I go about getting married to the big blockhead for the cover? It would make things so much easier to live with."

"Well, first you date and then he asks you to marry him, oh, and he'll probably never admit it but he's a virgin! Probably the last one in the NSA except for…never mind."

"I'm serious here, David. That tiny apartment and that stupid pool car and cable TV – those are not what I call partnership benefits. He lives all the way across town and if he calls one of his famous 'team briefings', it takes me a hour to get there if traffic is bad."

"Team briefings? Wait a minute. I thought Amy and I were the other two team members and we haven't had any meetings. At least none that _I've_ been included in. Amy disappears sometimes so at least she's in the loop."

"You two aren't included. He says he has 'new information' or some other stupid thing that can't be handled over the phone so we meet at a restaurant or at his apartment. I'm serious, David. The man covers everything in infinite detail but then has a 'briefing' on some stupid little change."

"How often?" He had a wild haired idea. Could it be that obvious?

"Like almost every damned night since we met. I'm telling you, David, the man – "

"Those are 'Casey dates'. Man, the guy must have been recruited out of Junior High School. He's so socially challenged. Look, he likes you. He wants to spend time with you and he's too stupid or shy or both to just say 'Hey, want to spend time together? Maybe have dinner?' Think about it."

"So he has me drive across town to spend time with him? That's so lame it has to be true."

"I just realized how lame that sounded once I said it. You're just going to have to live with it. Suck it up and be an agent. Can't help you, Selena. He's just being Casey."

"Well, I think you might be on to something, Agent Cain, and I'm going to pursue your line of reasoning and discover if your discarded hypothesis might not be correct."

Chuck thought about the woman he'd mentally discarded as a 'lightweight' and reconsidered.

"Where did you go to school, Selena? That sounded very articulate for a CIA agent. No offense but it did."

She laughed and stopped herself from hugging her new team member. '_I have to remember his distaste for PDAs except for those from his 'wife'.'_

"I joined the Army MPs after high school and then I went to the University of Nevada-Las Vegas for pre-law and then Vanderbilt for law school. Not the dumbassed Latina everyone expects, right?" She wasn't offended, she was used to people writing her off as 'boobs and bad accent'. She wanted to be an FBI agent but the CIA offered her a deal she couldn't refuse – and after several years in the field offices, here she was – Team Intersect.

"Well, I'll hold off judging the boobs until I can see but the accent is not that noticeable except for the sibilant 'esses'. I grew up in L.A. and I learned fast not to judge intelligence by an accent."

'_No wonder Amy insisted on a married cover. This guy is not to be believed. I don't think I've ever been complimented and teased in the same sentence.'_

"I'll let you know what I discover, David. So, when are they going to spring you and let you check out my hooters? You must be bored to tears. I got some books-on-iPod if you're interested. Might help fill the time. They're in the car so getting them's no big deal. You _do_ have an iPod, don't you?"

"Yeah, someplace at the house in a box probably. I'll get Amy to pick me up one and then I can download from yours. That's a nice thing to think of, Selena. Thanks. Uh-oh, I hear the clatter of cloven hooves. Better make yourself scarce. Here comes Assistant Director Franklin to grill me on some esoteric facets of the intersect."

"I'll catch you tomorrow, David. Don't get into too much trouble." She left just as Heather reached his room.

"Hey, Amy. David's bored but could you bring his iPod in tomorrow? I have some audio books he can listen to. It'll keep him from rewiring the controls on the bed to launch nuclear missiles or something worse."

"Yeah, I'll take care of it. Um, I'm Heather Franklin. Amy and I are sisters."

"No kidding? Twins? I'm a twin, too. I'll bet you have some 'substitution stories' to tell."

"Yeah, but not around David. He's traumatized enough by having us both around. He's good people though. Any is so damned lucky. Sometimes I hate her!" She was laughing so it wasn't truly 'hate'.

"Well, I have to go ask Major Casey to dinner since he's got issues with women. David's in a funk so watch your step. He's bored and feeling useless and he's liable to be cranky."

"I've seen him in worse moods. Go nail your Major and I'll go play substitute wife to my bro-in-law."

"Substitution night?" Selena and her sister had double-teamed guys before when one of them liked the guy and the other didn't.

"NO! I'd never do that to Amy where David was involved. It's the real deal with those two. We're talking marriage, kids, house, car, summer vacations, the whole nine yards."

"Well, let's hope they get their happy ending and we get ours. See ya around, Heather."

* * *

Heather took a deep breath and walked into David's room and laughed when she saw him trying to loosen the adhesive tape on his patch to see if he could see yet.

"You've been told not to do that, David. I was there when the doctor told you to quit fooling around."

"Amy! Damn I missed you today. How was your day?"

"Sorry, David. It's Heather. She's still making nice with some intel types. I'm sure she'll be by to say good night and tuck you in and make sure you're comfortable." She giggled at the mental image.

"Well, I missed you, too. How was _your_ day?"

"I went to funerals all damned day. How the hell do you think my day was, David?" She didn't mean to sound so sharp with him. It could just as easily been his funeral she'd attended.

"Aw, shit, babe, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it the way it sounded."

"I know you didn't, but it's – it's hard. I knew those people. We worked together every day and someone killed them. Why? What's worth all those lives?"

"You know, Heather. Me and the intersect. They messed with the programs, set up an overload in the electrical system and let physics take care of the rest. It may not sound like much of a consolation but the fact that you're alive makes me very happy."

She sat on the edge of the bed and then leaned over and laid her head on his shoulder. "Do you mind, Dave? I just need a little human contact right now. My whole team…"

She started to cry softly and he wrapped his arms around her and that's how Amy found them. She stopped in the doorway and took in the tableau and started to say something bitchy when she heard her sister's quiet sobs and she backed out of the room to give her some privacy.

'_He's just offering her comfort, that's all. Nothing more. She's not making a play for him. She learned her lesson with Bryce. It's just one person needing to connect with someone else. They've both been through a lot.'_

It was her sister. She loved her sister. It was also her 'husband' and she definitely loved him. She wasn't jealous. It was more envy. She didn't want to intrude but she had packing to do and a plane to catch. The MI-6 mission was on again and she was excited to be going back to the field.

Heather sat up and wiped her face with her hands.

"I'm so sorry, David. I just needed a hug, I guess. Today was awful. Those families, those kids. I feel so guilty that I survived and they didn't. I should go. If Amy caught us, there'd be Hell to pay. She's very possessive in case you haven't already noticed."

"Heather, you're my family now. She understands that. She knows how I am. You worry too much about what other people think and too little about how you feel. My shoulder is always here for you. It was nice to hug someone. Amy's been running the dailies with me but I can tell she's preoccupied with something. I've become attuned to her moods. She's got something on her mind."

"That's sweet. I really do have to go. Sweet dreams, big brother." She kissed him on the cheek and left, feeling better than she had since the explosion. She walked out into the corridor and turned and ran right into her sister who was leaning against the wall in tears.

"Holly, he was just holding me while I cried. Today was a horrible day for me and – " She was stunned when her sister pulled her into a hug and nodded.

"I know. He gives the best hugs. I heard what you said about how you worried I'd 'catch you'. Then I heard you call him 'big brother' and it just made me feel so – "

"Yeah. He gets right down into your heart and fixes it as best he can, doesn't he? No wonder you're nuts about him. He's everything a woman could want and nothing like that – well, you know who I mean."

"Listen, I need a big favor. I have to go to London for a week and I was wondering if you could look after him while I'm gone? Just stop in and say 'Hi' every day. He won't be a happy camper when I tell him the mission's back on but orders are orders."

"What? He's supposed to get discharged the day after tomorrow and you're going to be in London? Couldn't it wait until he at least got home, Holly? I know you've got a job but he needs you. Suppose his eyes aren't totally healed yet – what then? He'll go nuts if he has to stay here."

"Heather, I have to go. I'm going to go in and say my good nights and then I have to pack and catch a plane. He understands that this is part of our jobs. He'll be fine. He's strong and independent and he'll have Selena and Casey and you checking up on him."

"Fine. Go. Be a super spy. God, you're so much like Bryce sometimes that I wonder if you care about the havoc you leave behind when you leave? I'll watch out for him. We still have some data retention tests to run so I'll keep him occupied for a while. Just remember that one of the funerals I went to today could have been his and I'll bet you a million bucks that you would still be getting on a damned plane!"

Amy turned away from her sister before she said or did something they'd both regret. She did care about him. She was concerned about him. She loved him more than anyone else on the planet. Sometimes she hated her job but orders were orders. Taking a deep breath, Amy walked into her husband's room to say goodbye.

"Hey, handsome, wanna fool around?"

'_Heather just didn't understand. If one of those funerals she talked about had been David's, I'd have been on that damned plane in a heartbeat and praying that this mission I'd catch the Golden BB and rejoin him wherever we go after we die_.'

"Amy! I've missed you! So, going to London after all? No big deal. The job calls and we go. Damn it! If you could have postponed it until after I'd gotten my eyes back I'd have used the 'good training line' with Beckman and gone with you."

"Let me make a call and see if Beckman can hold off the 'cousins across the pond'. What made you change your mind? What happed to the hapless asset who might get me killed?"

"I fell in love and don't want the wench cavorting with the 'Bond wannabees' in Merry Old England."

"Y – You fell in love? With me?"

"Jesus, dimbulb, with who else? Now, make the call and then let's see if I can remember all those naked parts. And Holly?"

"Yes, husband?" She was holding back tears.

"I fell in love with _you_ the day we went to your folks. I guess since I love Holly, I just have to suck it up and play nice with Amy or Sarah or Lisa or Drusilla or Carol or any of your other _future _manifestations."

"Damn it, Chuck! You promised you wouldn't look at my file! You promised!"

"What can I say? I'm a spy now and secrets are such a delicious challenge."

* * *

NSA Medical Facility  
FT Meade, MD

"Hold still, Agent Cain, or you'll lose an eye." The nurse was using bandage scissors to cut the gauze that secured the protective eye pads to his face.

"Now, Agent Cain, your eyes suffered from flash burns but it's been a week and between the ointments and the other medications, things should be looking better. Pun intended, Agent. Now the lights in the room are dim and your eyes are going to be very sensitive to the light but don't worry."

The last of the gauze was gone and the pads were removed and it felt wonderful to feel the cool air of the room against his closed eyelids.

"Open your eyes, Agent. I need to check your response to the light and then do an acuity exam."

Chuck opened his eyes just a bit and then scrunched them shut. "Oh, crap, that's bright!"

"Man up, moron. No pain, no gain." Casey could always be counted on to bring light into the darkness. Selena elbowed him viciously in the stomach. It was like hitting bricks.

"Be nice. It probably hurts like a bitch!" The one thing she didn't like about her partner was his constant carping at David. The 'man up, moron' comment was typical. He had no feelings for anyone but himself.

The doctor pushed David's head back and then put drops into each of his eyes. "That should help with the sensitivity. At least we know you can see light." He handed him wrap-around sunglasses and told him to check back in a week if he didn't have any problems in the meantime.

"OK, I'm free. Let's – "

"Not yet, David. You have a zillion little stitches to have removed. You look like a Raggedy Andy doll from the 30s." Selena would never admit it but Raggedy Ann & Andy were her constant sleep companions until she was 16.

A few minutes later he was seeing his face in a mirror held by the nurse. He looked older but the scars weren't really noticeable unless you were really close. He hadn't realized that he was getting older. He thought he was still 20 sometimes not almost – shit – THIRTY!

'_Where did the time go? When did I get so damned old? I have in-laws and a wife and a career I never dreamed I'd have. Maybe getting old isn't all that bad.'_

"OK, that's it. 26 in and 26 out. You're free to go and just remember to keep them clean and dry."

Amy looked at him carefully. He was still her Chuck, her Charles, her David. Scars didn't matter. He was healthy and she intended to see just how healthy he was.

"OK, babe, I'm ready to fly. I hope you packed the right stuff for me. Something other than those silk boxers you seem so taken with."

"David! We're not alone! Jesus, you can take the boy out of California, raise him and nurture him but you can't take the perv out of the man. Let's go. Your plane leaves in two hours and Beckman had to pull strings and give up favors to get you on the mission. We don't want to be late."

They flew to London together.

A/N: This ends Part 3 – The Age of Reason.


	26. Chapter 26

Nik's Notes: Last one for a while. I'm moving to the hospital to be with him. It's closer to school anyway. If anyone is interested in picking up and completing his unfinished stories, PM me.

Nicole

* * *

A Slip of the Tongue Chapter 27

Heathrow Airport  
London, UK

The NSA's flight, a Grumman business jet with extended range capacity, touched down at Heathrow and taxied to the runway apron where a black limousine waited.

Amy was excited and had been 'excited' most of the trip. Three times, actually. Since they were the only passengers other than the flight crew she had made damned sure they passed the bar and initiated themselves into the "Mile High Club", the "Four Mile" and the "Five Mile" for good measure.

He loved her '_and all…incarnations_'. He said it. He showed her. Wow, did he ever! She held his hand, mindless of the cockpit crew's goodbyes and walked down the short stairs to the limo and was surprised to see her old friend Carina Hansen leaning against the fender.

"Sarah? I was told I'd be meeting Amy and David Cain."

She figured out that this was a new cover for her best (and only) friend and adjusted.

"Well, so this is the new Bryce? Is he as good? Can I have a turn? C'mon girlfriend, I let you have a turn with Lars the Scandinavian Cocksman."

Amy turned deep red and grabbed her husband's left hand in her left hand and proudly displayed the matching wedding bands and the 'actual' engagement ring Chuck-Charles-David had surprised her with on the plane.

"_Holly, I love you and the cover is toast. This is the real deal and I want you to wear __my__ ring, not some damned NSA prop!"_

If she lived to be 100 she would always remember his words and the look on his face. Apparently he'd enlisted half the NSA to get the ring and they'd all enjoyed their parts in the effort immensely.

"Oh my God! It's the real deal? You went and made a commitment? Oh, my God! I thought I felt a disturbance in the Force. So, is he any good? Can I still have a turn?"

"Carina, this is David. We worked together in Burbank and then things went to hell and we had to… look, let's get out of the public eye and into the car and I'll give you a quick briefing. And for the record – you even think loudly about slipping behind my back and even laying one of your manicured fingers on my husband and I'll 'gut you like a fish' and leave you in the sun to rot!"

"Oh my God! It _is_ the real deal! David, I'm Carina Hansen and Sarah and I have known each other since way before we got involved in humping for the greater good. Hell, we were _virgins!_"

David stood back and allowed his wife to handle the meeting but now Evil Chuck, as he still referred to himself in the privacy of his own mind, came out to play.

He looked at Amy and winked and mouthed 'I love you' while Carina was turned to watch as their bags were loaded into the trunk and couldn't see the by-play between the two.

"I've heard nothing about you but if you and Amy swapped men for fun I guess I might be able to handle both of you."

She turned around, totally bumfuzzled, and was swept up into an embrace and kissed with such passion, heat, and fervor that she immediately felt her loins liquefy as his tongue explored and caressed her lips and tongue.

He released her and held her for a second while she regained her composure and then looked over at Amy and smirked then back at Carina and said, "On second thought, Carina, I'll pass. You just – don't do anything for me. Sorry, love, but I don't lie. Just ask the missus. Damned bad trait for a spy but then again, I'm new to all this cloak-and-dagger-swapping-bedmates crap."

Carina's mouth instinctively opened to blast him with some cutting rancor but nothing happened. She was utterly shocked and aroused and pissed off at this tall guy who'd swept her best and only friend off her feet and into the marriage bed. Oh, how she envied her friend.

"David, that was mean. Apologize to her this instant. Damn it. She's going to be worthless for at least an hour. What is it with you? First you turn my sister into jello and now you assault my best friend and turn her into goo? My God, what am I to do with you? Carina, I'm sorry. He's such a … look, Carina - _**Carina**_?"

She was laughing so hard inside that only her training kept her from breaking 'cover' and asking him again to 'bend her over the hood of the car and have his way with her' like in East York.

Amy had taken a jamming device from her purse and turned it on immediately upon entering the limo.

Conversation was difficult at first since Carina was still adjusting to her friend's new 'status' and mulling over how to avenge the hit her image had taken. She was embarrassed personally but more so, angry at how easily she'd been played. People like David were 'targets of opportunity' not aggressors.

They rode into London and Carina almost never looked David in the face or spoke directly to him except in response to a direct question. She'd never been 'handled' before and she didn't like it one bit. A girl did have her image to maintain and he'd definitely left a mark. And Sarah! She was so different. She was…happy and focused and obviously so in love that she doubted Sarah would ever be much of a 'party girl' now that she had David.

"Wait a damned minute, Sarah Walker! You said 'Burbank' as in the assignment to baby sit some '_fucking idiot who was a walking disaster of a human being_'? This is the '_idio_t'? Him? Oh, girlfriend, you and I have got to have a talk. I want to hear everything! How's Bryce handling this? You were engaged to him forever. How'd he handle being dumped?"

Amy didn't answer her but turned to look out the window at the passing scenery. She flashed back to hanging from a pipe while he cut on her and shivered. David put his arm around her shoulder and pulled her tightly against him and kissed her hair murmuring 'it's OK, baby, you're safe. I have you,' so quietly that Carina strained to hear his gentle words.

He glared at Carina, appalled at her lack of tact and at her lack of what he'd come to know as 'professionalism' but was really armor for the soul.

"He didn't handle it well at all, Agent Hansen. As a matter of fact – it killed him. Now, all that shit with Larkin is history. If he weren't already dead, I'd set him on fire again and piss on him for what he did. It's history – ancient history. If you and Amy want to play 'catch up' on old times later, you'd best avoid any mention of the asshole, clear?"

"Yeah, Agent Cain. Crystal clear. No problems. I don't understand the situation but I can see the effect. Hey, Amy? I'm sorry I brought him up, OK? Bygones. So, what have they told you about why you're here? And why is _he_ here? Is this going to be a problem?"

If he was this protective of her now when she was dealing with history, how would he handle her part in this assignment? Was she mission-capable or was she so fragile that she wouldn't be able to handle her assignments? Would _he_ be able to handle her assignments?

* * *

MI-6 Headquarters  
London, UK

Upon arriving, David had an urgent message to contact 'Colonel Sanders' at NSA Headquarters via secure channel. He was led to a conference room and told that a satellite feed would be established momentarily. He drank a cup of coffee that one of the staff brought him and waited. And waited.

Amy and Carina walked down a corridor, through a checkpoint and then into the bowels of the MI-6 Global Monitoring Center – a huge room that looked like the Kennedy Space Center on mission day. People were busy at workstations, scurrying around like mice but each seemed to have a definite purpose. Amy sensed a controlled panic in the air.

Carina had sensed it when she first arrived and had listened and tried to put 2 and 2 together but never got the second '2'. No one was talking out of turn and she was frustrated.

"Carina, why is the DEA interested in this? Drugs, smuggling, what?"

"Some of the players are Middle Eastern types who move raw opium around the globe to various cartel processing units. But it's not drugs. I was brought in to identify the players and the distribution routes, that's all."

A woman approached them with an apology. "Agents, you've been misdirected here when you're needed in conference. Follow me, please. Someone misread a communiqué from the states and only tasked your senior agent, Agent Cain."

"_I'm_ the senior agent, Amy Cain." She was pissed. He was fresh out of training and they'd assumed a _man_ would be senior, of course. Damned 'Old Boys' club mentality.

* * *

MI-6 Headquarters  
Conference Room

'Colonel Sanders' was, of course, John Casey.

"OK, David, here's the deal. We have reports from Doctors without Borders that an outbreak of Ebola Zaire has occurred in the Republic of the Congo but the Congolese refuse to confirm it. The reports say that living victims are being kidnapped by 'men in hazmat suits' and spirited away by truck to an unknown location. CIA theorizes that someone wants live patients to cultivate Ebola Zaire for 'distribution'."

"How reliable are these reports, Colonel? Oh, congrats on the promotion. Selena must be proud." He couldn't resist a snarky comment.

"The reports are from a Devon Woodcomb. Ring any bells?" He watched the look on Cain's face as a brief wave of 'Chuck Bartowski' flowed over his face but was almost instantly suppressed.

"Devon! Devon's a thoracic man with time still left on his residency. What's he doing in the Congo? He's supposed to be getting married to my sister!"

"You've been dead more than 2 years, Chuck. They moved on with their lives. They've been married more than a year and they're both in the Congo. Ellie's 4 months pregnant and should have been evacuated immediately but she wouldn't leave Devon. Damned do-gooders."

Photos of Ellie and Devon in a field hospital in the boonies appeared and that's how Amy and Carina found him when they were led into the conference room. It was dark and only the soft glow from the huge flatscreen monitor on the wall provided any light. She sat down beside him and saw the photos on the monitor and the tear tracks on his cheeks.

"Cain, the only reason Beckman released you for this mission is because of your family involvement. You and Amy are to go to the Congo, bring them out, pick up as much of the skinny as you can while you're there and then get back here to NSA Headquarters where they'll be debriefed."

"What's the DEA's involvement? Why is Agent Hansen here? She's supposed to be working some marks with Amy." Casey's eyebrows twitched and he was quick to allay any suspicions.

"Hansen's got knowledge you'll need to identify some drug distributors who have suddenly decided to 'cultivate' a deadly virus for distribution and sale to various unfriendly elements. Ebola Zaire's mortality rate is 90%. A terrorist's deadliest weapon so far has been flying into buildings or blowing up trucks. Imagine…"

"Why was Amy Cain tasked originally?"

"She has had dealings with a couple of the persons of interest in the past. They like blondes."

His head snapped around and he stared at his wife. Was that the mission she was going on without him? Spreading her legs for the greater good?

She looked at him shamefaced and then looked back at the monitor and sighed.

'_This is why spies don't fall in love. At least not girl spies. He'd never have allowed me to go on the mission if he'd known what was required. Sure, Beckman had given him 'veto authority' over my single missions but she'd never tell him just what accomplishing the missions would require. We'll have to talk…soon.'_

"Agents, you'll be flying into Brazzaville and will be met by some locals with ties to the CIA and taken to the hospital where the doctors are waiting for extraction. David, you'll have to get a handle on personal feelings. Intel first, doctors second. I've transmitted your briefing packets for you and Amy. Hansen will accompany you to ID any bad guys. Be careful and don't fuck it up, moron."

The room lights came on when the transmission was disconnected. Hansen looked over and saw that Cain had been crying! Sarah had a grip on his hand and was murmuring something she couldn't catch and wiping away the tears. She turned to Carina, knowing what her thoughts were.

"Carina, get that look off your face. Those two doctors are his family. His sister and her husband. They think he's dead and now he's going to have to disrupt their safe and silly worldview with some harsh truths. His sister practically raised him and he hasn't seen her in two years since he 'died' and went into deep cover so lighten up or I'll have you replaced."

"Is he even an agent?" She knew that emotions were controllable. Hell, she'd controlled her emotions for years considering some of the lowlifes she'd dealt with for the job.

"Yeah, and he took out a Fulcrum extraction team before he got his shield from Beckman. Don't sell him short. Others have and they've all paid a terrible price. He's sweet and gentle and kind but don't underestimate his abilities. He's brilliant – more of a thinker than a doer but he does 'do' when he has to. Ask the SEALS about Syria if you run into any."

David spoke up for the first time, in control again.

"Agent Cain, she has no need to know about Syria. If she has doubts about me, that's her problem. Let's get this done. Damn! She's pregnant…I'm going to be an uncle. Amy – you're going to be an aunt! Cool beanz!"

Amy smiled and sighed. He'd be all right. He knew what had to be done and he wouldn't fail – especially since his family was involved. She thought about that and made a mental note that Devon and Ellie were now _her_ family, too.

All that assumed they got through the issues of dealing with 'persons of interest' with a penchant for blondes. He was an adult and an agent. He'd accept it and drive on. She knew him. He'd accept what had to be done to accomplish the mission - _or so she hoped._

She grinned and nudged David. "Ready for some EllieJoy, honey?"

A/N: There are a couple more chapters. Remember, this final arc is called the End Times for a reason.


	27. Chapter 27

Hey guys, it's me, the Oldest Man and I'm attempting to finish some of Jim's epic sagas and this is my latest attempt. I'm not sure where he was going with this but I have a good idea. This chapter bridges things and wraps up the Ellie issues. Pls respond and let me know if it's in the 'flavor and texture' of the APR.

* * *

A Slip of the Tongue Chapter 28

Brazzaville, Republic of the Congo  
World Health Organization Regional Office for Africa

David was sweating and it wasn't just because of the equatorial heat that blasted them when they deplaned. He would be facing his sister and her husband for the first time in more than two years and he was concerned about her reaction.

Life was apparently very good to Ellie and Devon and they felt the need to give something back so they joined Doctors Without Borders or _Médecins Sans Frontières_ as it was internationally known. He just didn't understand how Ellie could jeopardize her unborn child by possibly exposing herself to something as catastrophically fatal as Ebola Zaire.

"Don't worry, honey, I'll have your back. If things get too tense, leave the room and I'll brief them in. I know how hard this has got to be for you but if anyone can handle it, you can. Now, let's go and you can introduce your wife to your sister and her husband."

"Maybe I'd better go in first, explain things and then bring you in. Us being together might be a bit much for her to handle since the last time she and I discussed 'our' relationship, Chuck's and Sarah's, we had really strong words. She couldn't understand how you could be my 'girlfriend' and be so uncaring and cold."

"That's all changed now though. Right? I mean we love each other and it's not a damned cover relationship, David. It's the real deal. Right?"

He looked into her eyes and saw such pain and longing that he had to make it right. _He_ was the one who always was so damned insecure, not her.

He caressed her cheek and then slipped his hand under her hair and pulled her close and kissed her as if they had all the time in the world and were the only two people on the planet. It was a kiss of reassurance and a promise of more, much more.

"What do you think, Agent Cain?" He looked at her and she blushed and just hugged him tightly and whispered 'I think, David, that we should go to our hotel and you can show me how much we've changed."

"Later. And I hope the A/C works because I plan on getting all sweaty and funky demonstrating just how I feel about you."

"If it isn't, we'll just have to use the shower and keep the cool water sluicing all over our naked flesh as we pleasure one another. Mmm, shower sex…makes me…Damn you! You did it again! How am I going to concentrate with the mental image of your throbbing manhood plundering my loins, exacting tribute…"

"You've been reading those trashy romance novels again, haven't you? Why? Don't I bring enough romance into your life, Holly?"

"Oh, yeah, and you put it in all the right places, David. I just love looking at you when your eyes glaze over, that's all. Now, another quick kiss for luck and then let's say 'Hi' to Ellie."

* * *

Conference Room

Eleanor Woodcomb and her husband had been ordered to return to the WHO Regional Office for a briefing and then fill their supply requisitions and return to their field hospital and their patients.

"Hey, babe, how are you and the little one handling the heat? I really wish you'd go home, Ellie. This place isn't fit for pregnant women. Especially not my pregnant wife. The air conditioning here at HQ should give you a break."

"Devon, I'm not going home. There's nothing there for me and besides, we're making a difference and isn't that why we became doctors in the first place?"

"Yeah, you're right as usual, El, but I still think – "

Neither saw the two agents slip into the open conference room door and then quietly close it.

"You're damned right she's right as usual. Hey, sis, sorry about all this but I can explain everything. You're looking good, Ellie. Marriage and pregnancy agree with you. Aren't you going to give me a hu – "

She knocked the breath out of him and her hug was so strong that he had trouble drawing a breath.

"El – please, I can't breathe – " She stepped back and looked at her brother and then punched him hard in the face, rearing back to hit him again, taking advantage of his shock.

"Eleanor Bartowski, don't you _dare_ hit my husband again!" Ellie stopped, midswing and gaped at the woman who'd called Chuck 'her husband' and held her wrist in a crushing grip.

"Sarah? Sarah Walker? Oh, I should have known you'd be involved in this somehow!"

Amy frowned and walked over to David who was leaning back against the conference room table staring at his sister in surprise and shock and holding his jaw.

"David, sit down and catch your breath. I'll talk to her. She was just surprised, sweetheart, that's all. Go. Sit. Let me deal with this."

"My brother is dead. He was killed in a carjacking. The cops told me he was dead. He's dead." Ellie was getting dizzy and knew she was at the point of fainting as heat, resurrection and shock all combined to make her feel faint.

"Devon, I think she needs you. Once she's calmed down and has some water and time to think, we'll explain everything, I promise. You're my family now, too, and we don't lie to family. Not anymore."

She sat down next to her husband, rubbing his back with slow comforting pressure, letting him know she was there for him. He looked up at her and she wiped away the bit of blood that was trickling out the corner of his mouth with her thumb.

"She got you good, David. Maybe I should take over the explanation."

"No. I did this. I need to explain why."

Ellie regained her composure after a few minutes and then fixed her dead brother with a wicked glare.

"Why? Why did you do this to me. Why did you let me think you were dead? How could you be so damned cruel? We were all we had and you just walked away from it with your blonde whore and…"

"My cover was compromised. If I hadn't 'walked away', you'd probably be dead instead of married and pregnant. The people who were after me wouldn't hesitate to use you to get to me. They would have killed Devon to convince you of their sincerity and then probably would have threatened to kill you to make me give myself up. So dying was the most effective way of rendering you and Devon 'nonessential'."

"You couldn't leave a note, make a phone call…"

"No. It had to be real. Sarah and I, well, we went into a kind of witness protection but they found me and we had to run again. I went from Bartowski to Carmichael and finally now, David Cain. Sarah is Amy Cain, my wife. It's real. We're married. And it's not complicated anymore at all. I love her and she loves me. Simple."

"Simple? You call us running into each other in the fucking Congo simple? Like it's a coincidence? Why are you here and why is _she_ here? Last time we talked, you didn't even like her for God's sake!"

"We're partners We're government employees and we're here because you have information we need and then, Eleanor Faye, then I'm going to drag you and your husband onto a government plane and back to the US."

Ellie's mouth moved but nothing came out. A definite first in all the years he could remember. Ellie speechless was priceless.

"Chuck –" Devon began.

"David. David Cain. Chuck Bartowski is dead. Charles Carmichael, high school science teacher and husband to Sarah Walker is dead. David Cain, husband to Amy and Holly, is alive and well and here before you. Live with it."

"Wait! Wait! You said 'husband to Amy _and _Holly. Who the hell is Holly?"

"Holly is Amy's real name. She has a twin sister named Heather and it's a measure of my trust in you two that I've told you her real name. With her permission, I want you to meet my in-laws and her sister. They're family now. Nice folks, although Heather's a little too much like Amy to suit me. Confuses me all to hell when they double-team me."

"So, you two are spies or something?"

"Or something. And that brings us to the real reason we're here talking with you. The 'wild tale' requires investigation but first I need to ask Devon a question."

"Go ahead, Ch – David." Devon was quicker on the uptake than his wife.

"Why the hell, with _Ebola Zaire_ running rampant, is she still here in the frikkin' Congo and not back in California? Are you frikkin' nuts, Devon? She's pregnant with our niece or nephew and she's _here?"_

"We're doctors. We go where we're needed. Besides, she refuses to leave if I don't go."

"Then, asshole, you should have packed it up and headed home when the first case appeared. It's got a 90% mortality rate and doesn't care that you're a doctor, it'll kill you anyways."

"We have a duty as doctors – "

"Oh, spare me the damned nobility speech. Why didn't you leave?"

It went on like that, back and forth, question and excuse, for 5 minutes befor Amy called a halt to it.

"OK, we're getting nowhere and time is of the essence. Devon, Ellie, what can you tell us about the kidnapping of the patients by men in 'hazmat suits'? Tell us everything you can remember. Any little detail might be the break we need to find them and dispose of the bodies in a safe manner."

"You mean kill them? Murder them when we don't even know what they're doing with the patients or why? NO! No, no, no, no. We won't be a party to murder, Agent Walker."

Amy took a deep breath and calmed herself down. She wanted to smack some sense into her so badly…

"Ellie, listen to me. These men are planning something terrible. They're going to use these poor souls to grow Ebola like they were human petri dishes in a lab. They're monsters and they're going to sell this shit to the highest bidder without caring in the least what use their buyers might make of it."

"You can't just murder them – they're human beings in incredible pain and suffering! We won't tell you a damned thing unless _he_," and she gestures at her brother, "promises to bring any surviving patients back to our hospital for treatment."

"_He_ doesn't call the shots around here, Dr. Woodcomb, I do. He's my partner but I'm senior agent. Now, tell us everything you can about what happened and we'll try, I repeat, try and bring any survivors back to the hospital as long as it doesn't endanger personnel or the mission. That's it. Take it or leave it but you will tell us every damned thing you know about these kidnappings."

Ellie didn't miss the change from 'Ellie' to 'Dr. Woodcomb' nor did she miss the steel that suddenly sheathed her voice. Her brother didn't either but he just smiled. He smiled and that broke her. He'd changed so much and it was all because of this spy-bitch that seemed to have him under her spell.

"Fine, _Agent Walker,_ we'll tell you all we know." She refused to call the blonde woman 'Amy' or – God forbid – 'Agent Cain'.

Chuck pushed himself off the wall where he'd been leaning and observing the questioning and then walked over to the table and put his palms flat on the surface and leaned over looking down at his sister.

"Ellie, one thing. One little thing. Agent Cain, Amy, is my wife. Get that through your thick Polish skull. I love her and she loves me. I didn't at first, hell, I couldn't. I didn't trust her so I couldn't love her. Then she got hurt and started to change and now she's everything I ever could imagine in women all in _my_ woman. Accept it or forget you ever saw me."

He straightened up and mumbled something about getting coffee for the group and left the conference room He was so damned angry. What happened to being glad he was alive again? What happened to having her brother back?


	28. Chapter 28

Oldest Man back for another try at finishing one of APR's excellent works. Sorry for not being around but I'm fighting the same battle he lost.

OM

* * *

A Slip of the Tongue  
Chapter 29

Brazzaville, Republic of the Congo

"David, Carina and I have done this before. We go in, make nice with the marks Carina has already identified, maybe we get lucky and they talk when we liquor them up but if not, we can always rely on 'pillow talk'. It won't mean anything to me, David. It's just the part of the job we don't talk about, okay?"

"Fine. You and the Red Menace go do your thing and I'll wait here and once you're back, we'll meet and combine the information you've both learned and then plan a course of action."

"David, please don't be angry. It's part of the – "

"Part of the job, I get it. Just be careful and don't do anything foolish. I wish we could get the information some other way but there isn't one."

Amy looked at her husband and knew he would never forget this night and would have a hard time forgiving her for what she had to do. She shouldn't have agreed to let him come on this mission. Ellie and Devon could have been extracted and David would never have had to confront his sister with his continued existence.

"You better get dressed. I'll be in the bar until you two arrive and then I'll come back up here and wait." David pulled on a suit coat and left the hotel room without another word. He didn't look back. He didn't want her to see the look on his face.

He passed Carina in the hall and she looked at him and then looked away just as quickly. She'd seen the look on his face countless times before on men she'd allowed herself to become 'attached' to and she knew that her friend Sarah would need her for support after the mission.

Relationships, even one as strong as Sarah said hers and David's were, rarely survived after a mission like this. Turning a mark using the honey trap was a relationship killer.

* * *

Simba Bar

The place was loud and filled with men and women from countless countries. It only took him a few minutes to locate the marks from their file photos. Both men were from a culture that viewed a woman's role differently from the Western main stream. Both female agents would play on that view to make their mark's sing.

He sat at the bar and watched the door and when Amy and Carina walked in, he paid his tab and walked out without looking at them. He went directly to the elevator and to his room. He had things to organize and terrorists to kill.

* * *

Carina and Amy played the marks very adroitly and soon it was decided to take the party to more private places and both couples left together. The men had promised them cocaine and a party and possibly a good tip if the party went well.

Amy and her mark went into his room and after some heavy foreplay, Amy excused herself to 'get ready' and went into the bathroom. Her mark was already naked and in bed waiting on his blonde to come out and play. A line of coke was all ready for her.

Amy stripped off her clothes and shuddered. This mark wouldn't be a problem. She'd handled them before with ease. The problem would be after the debriefing when she was alone with David. With Bryce, it had been just a part of the job and she ignored any feelings, good or bad but being with David now made everything different. She would feel unclean for a long time after tonight.

Wearing only her thong, she opened the door and was surprised to see a man dressed in a black infiltration suit standing at the foot of the bed, a pistol in one hand. She started to reach for her knife when the man calmly raised the silenced pistol and shot her in the chest.

He changed weapons and turned to the man he'd tranked and injected a fast-acting stimulant and waited a few minutes for his prisoner to regain consciousness. He walked over to where Amy lay and he covered her body with a sheet.

The Arab's eyes widened in shock and then in fear when the black figure told him he was going to die but how he died was his choice. He could die with his manhood intact or without it entirely. If he answered questions quickly and honestly, he'd die quickly.

He got his information, asked a few follow-up questions and then shot the Arab in the forehead and twice in the heart, old school style.

Ignoring the unconscious woman entirely, he walked out onto the balcony and jumped from the railing over to the next balcony and quickly picked the lock on the glass door and eased into the room.

* * *

Carina was naked and had tied her hair back in a ponytail and he could see her head bobbing up and down over the second Arab's crotch. He walked quickly up behind her and grabbed her ponytail where it met her scalp and jerked her away from his target and onto her back. She was too startled to do anything other than watch as the intruder shot her mark in the head and twice in the chest.

"C'mon, throw something on. I need your help." He pointed the silenced pistol at her and gestured toward the pile of her clothes on the bureau. His English was heavily accented. She thought he was probably a German.

"Who are you? You ruined my party and I lost money when you shot my date." She played her role as a prostitute who'd lost her fee for her date.

"Shut up. Get dressed or I'll shoot you, too, and make do without your help." He waved the gun in her face and she scampered to get dressed. She had a knife in her purse and as soon as she could, she was going to kill the man who'd fucked up her mission.

"I have a friend next door. His friends will kill her when they find him", she said, pointing at the dead Arab.

"Whoring is a tough business. She'll just have to take her chances. Now, move out to the balcony. Leave your shoes off and don't try anything funny."

He pushed her out onto the balcony and pulled over a chair. "Get on the chair and jump to the next balcony. Move to the farthest corner and face the wall. Don't move until you're told to and you might get to party another night."

She did as she was told when she realized that the balcony served the room where Sarah was entertaining her mark. She'd have to warn her somehow. Carina knew the assassin would eliminate them both because professionals didn't leave witnesses.

The man grabbed her ponytail at the base and used it to push her into the room. She saw Sarah lying on the carpet and thought she was already dead. She was running 'outcomes' in her mind while her training took over and she pulled the knife from her purse and slammed it back into the chest of the man holding her by her hair.

She heard a grunt of pain but then she was thrown down hard on her stomach and she felt his knee in her back and the barrel of the pistol in the nape of her neck. Carina knew she was going to die in the next few seconds and a sob escaped before she could control herself.

"You're going to have to carry her out of here. We can't use the rope now. We're going to have to chance the elevator to get to our room." The accent was gone and she recognized the voice.

"David? What the hell – "

"For once, Carina, just do what you're told. Get her purse and dress and throw her over your shoulder and carry her. I can't now. I'll check the hallway. Follow me and don't fuck it up!"

* * *

They got onto the elevator without incident and back to Amy's room. Carina dumped Amy unceremoniously on the bed and then turned on David but he was already in the bathroom.

She threw open the door and started haranguing him through the shower curtain about how he'd 'blown the mission' and now they had nothing to go on. She was working up a full head of steam when she saw a bloody handprint on the shower curtain.

Carina jerked it back and saw David leaning against the tiled stall, eyes tightly closed, pressing a washcloth against the knife wound in his side. The water washed away the blood but she could see how serious the wound was.

"Idiot. Sarah's going to kill us both when she sees that you've hurt yourself, David. How stupid are you?"

"Pretty damned stupid. I should have just left you there to finish up your party and carried her down myself but we needed to kill both of them once we got the information we needed. Throw a monkey wrench into their operation by eliminating their distribution contacts."

"We need to get you to a doctor but the locals – we'll have to chance the embassy. We have no other choice. Can you manage – "

"I got this far. We need to wait until she's conscious. I used the only stim capsule on her mark."

Carina started to interrupt but he cut her off.

"Listen, just in case things go south, the kidnapped patients are being kept in a village about 20km southeast of the WHO hospital. Once they die, their bodies are sealed in coffins and sent back to the US in a Seaboard cargo plane that flies out of Brazzaville every Thursday. That's tomorrow. Her mark didn't know the destination. We need to alert Beckman to put surveillance on the plane and destination and follow the cargo."

Carina watched as he cut a towel into strips and pressed a wet washcloth against his wound and said to her, "Carina, wrap me up so I don't drip all over the place. Bleeding's going to stop soon and we need to get the intel reported."

"David, I'm sorry about the knife but I didn't know who you were and I was afraid. This cloak and dagger crap is new to me. I'm used to doing undercover stuff, not assassinations. Sarah – "

"Your friend Sarah died of wounds in a basement in a mountain chalet in Colorado. Amy Cain is her replacement. Don't blow her cover. She's worked too damned hard to get back to where she was, understand?"

"Yeah. We still need to get you some medical attention. Your sister's staying at the embassy and she's a doctor. We'll go there, make our reports and then she can patch you up. You'll all be extracted in the morning. The locals will take care of the village holding area with CIA assistance. You and your wife, damn, I still can't believe Sarah Walker, The Operative, got married."

"Life's full of surprises, Carina." He wasn't smirking like she expected him to be.

* * *

Amy woke up and was disoriented but knew she'd been hit with a tranquilizer dart by the throbbing headache and horrible dry mouth. She looked around to get her bearings and saw Carina out on the balcony with her husband. They were sitting on a settee and she had an arm around him like she was holding him up.

She rolled out of bed and walked unsteadily to the bathroom to get aspirin and something to rinse the horrible taste out of her mouth. It was then that she realized she was wearing only her thong. She grabbed her robe from the hook on the bathroom door and walked out through their room and out onto the balcony.

"Someone want to tell me what the hell is going on? Carina, hands off the merchandise. He's taken. Okay, boys and girls, spill." She sat down in one of the chairs across from them and waited for their explanation.

'_This has got to be good. She's barefoot and wet and her clothes are stuck to her and he's wet, too. What the hell?'_

"I can only tell you what I know. I was 'entertaining' my mark when some big oaf pulled me off him by my hair and then shot him. I figured I was dead and had nothing to lose so I stabbed him but all he did was drag me out onto the balcony. I thought he was going to throw me off but instead he 'helped' me jump over to Faisal's balcony and we went into the room. You were out cold and Faisal was dead. The big oaf made me carry you out to the elevator and then to your room. We've been waiting for you to wake up. No stimulants available."

"Big oaf? David, what have you done?" She was angry with him. His jealousy and insecurity had ruined the mission_. _

'_I should have left him behind at the embassy with his sister. We shouldn't work together if he can't handle the job description.' _

"Sarah, don't. You don't know what's happened and you're about to fuck up something special. Just wait until you're thinking straight. We need to get David to the embassy and – "

"It's _Amy_, damn it. Okay. Let me get dressed and we'll pack our bags and head out to the embassy. What time is it, anyway?"

"A little after two. You get David to the embassy and I'll bring your bags along. He needs to get the intel to Beckman ASAP. And he needs to see his sister."

"Intel? You said you were interrupted 'entertaining' your mark? What intel?"

"David got the whole scoop from your date and it's hot, time-sensitive stuff. Take him to the embassy and don't hassle him. He needs to see his sister as soon as the report is in."

"You're all wet, David. Explain. Now." She wouldn't put it past Carina to have somehow lured him into the shower and –

Carina answered for him. It was obvious that he was in pain and the blood loss was slowing him down. They didn't have time for this.

"I said I stabbed the 'oaf', remember? I stabbed David. I didn't know who he was. He was using a German accent and I thought I was going to die. He's hurt and I found him in the shower trying to stop the bleeding. I've got him wrapped but he needs to see his sister, _the doctor_, right away!"

* * *

American Embassy  
Brazzaville

The guards were efficient and once they'd identified themselves, they were quickly taken to the intel section and made contact with General Beckman.

David's recital was fast and he only seemed to lose focus once during the entire briefing. Beckman wanted to go over all the details but Amy cut her off.

"General, he's bleeding from an untreated stab wound. He needs to see a doctor and his sister is staying here at the embassy. I don't trust the locals. Agent Hansen can fill you in since David told her the same things he's already told you twice."

"Go. I'll wait for Hansen. Return to the US as soon as he's able to travel. Good work, agents, on handling the terrorists." She ended the conference and Amy asked a guard to find Dr. Woodcomb and escort her to the dispensary.

"C'mon, David, let's get you to the dispensary and Ellie will fix you up in no time. We're going home, sweetheart, and Beckman says – "

"I heard. Not dead yet. You handle Ellie. I'm not up for a fight right now. I need to sleep, Amy, not fight. And aspirin. This hurts a lot."

He wasn't a whiner so she knew it was bad. She hadn't messed with the improvised dressing while dressing him but now she wished she had.

* * *

US Embassy  
Dispensary

Ellie shot Amy death looks and quickly cut off the towel strips and very gently removed the blood soaked washcloth and swore.

"Damn it, Sarah! This should have been attended to long ago. Look at his nail beds. He's lost a lot of blood. This place doesn't have a surgery setup. We'll need to get him to our hospital so we can treat him."

"It's Amy, Ellie, and going anywhere other than the airport and home is out of the question. Fix him, _please! _"

"No anesthesia. No even locals. What the hell kind of 'dispensary' is this? This is an embassy not some – "

She almost screamed when her brother sighed and lost consciousness. She hadn't seen Carina shoot him with the tranquilizer pistol.

"I anesthetized him for you, Doctor. Now quit your bitching and sew him up. We need to get out of Brazzaville on the first plane in the morning. Bad people are going to be very pissed and come looking for me and Amy, understand?"

The five Americans, three agents and two doctors, flew out of Brazzaville the next morning on a US government plane.


	29. Chapter 29

I wish I had a video of Lot's Wife trying to fly a simulator. Poor Cajun Hunnie was all over the sky and bounced off the ground more times than she landed. Watch the Texas skies…she's going airborne on Thursday once her FAA flight physical results are filed.

Be afraid, Texans. Be very afraid. It's not a NASA satellite you have to fear landing on you…it's…OLIVIA!

Some of you have trouble following the characters in their various evolutionary personas so here's a cheat sheet:

Chuck = Chuck Carmichael = David Cain

Sarah = Sarah Carmichael = Amy Cain & Holly Franklin

Hope that helps.

OM

* * *

A Slip of the Tongue  
Chapter 29

NSA HQ

General Beckman's Office  
FT Meade, MD

David sat alone in the General's office. She'd requested a one-on-one and Amy was off checking up on her sister and making plans for the evening. They'd decided to take Ellie and Devon home with them and get pizza and reconnect.

"Agent Cain, the aircraft left Brazzaville and flew to Morocco on the North Africa coast and then to Lisbon where it refueled before flying into Ronald Reagan Int'l in DC. The cargo was off-loaded and is still in a bonded warehouse."

"Why? Those bodies are 'perishable'. It doesn't make sense – unless they run this as a routine, regardless of whether or not they actually have infected bodies as cargo. Can someone review Customs records and see who picked up bodies previously?"

"I'll put someone on it and we'll meet again when we have more information. In the mean time, you and your wife are on leave. Stay close, though."

It was the closest Beckman would ever come to 'thank you for a mission well done' but David accepted it as their due.

"I'd like Agent Hansen to be assigned to the Task Force in case we need her to identify any 'players' we might turn up. Is that possible?"

"Definitely. She's still in DC. Now, go. Stop by medical and get their release and then take the time off to rest. We'll contact you if anything turns up. Dismissed."

* * *

NSA Medical Section

"Whoever did the sewing is a top-notch seamstress. Best field suturing I've come across in a while. Your partner is very talented."

"Sister, not partner. She was in the same place at the same time. She's a doctor and we brought her out with us. Her husband's a chest cutter, she's more into pediatrics."

"Hmm. Pass on my compliments. She's well trained. Okay, come back in a week. Showering is okay provided you dry it well and apply something like Neosporin to avoid surface infections. Use your arm like normal but don't overdo it."

He thanked the doctor for his courtesy. He liked the way he treated him as a person not just a patient. He'd have to tell Ellie about him.

He checked his watch and sighed. He had an hour yet before he met up with Amy and the doctors and figured he'd check in on Heather and report their safe return and find out if there was any news on their saboteur.

* * *

Heather was 'out and about' so he left her a note and told her to call her sister but that they were both well and on leave for a bit and to make plans for dinner some night during the week.

His phone vibrated and he laughed when he saw it was Casey calling. The Cains needed some time with the other members of the team. He sighed when he figured it meant another night entertaining at the house he'd hardly spent any time in.

"Cain, secure and in public."

"Casey, secure and about to enter the building. Beckman told me about your latest adventure and the CIA part of your team wants to make sure she didn't lie to her. How about lunch? The four of us can discuss the sudden interest in the funeral business."

"Ellie and Devon are here, Casey, and Amy and I will probably have lunch with them and then, _since we're on leave, _have them out to the house for a catch-up."

"Understood. Listen, just give us a little time. While you're loafing around, we still have to work on the problems at hand."

"Fine. Let me find Amy and I'll call you back. I liked you a lot better when you were just a watcher, dickhead."

He hung up before Casey could respond but from the way the phone suddenly seemed hot in his hand he bet Casey was still screaming into his own phone. Poor Selena. He'd be a bear until he could hunt down the 'moron' and retaliate. _Life was hard sometimes_, he thought.

* * *

NSA Cafeteria

He spotted Amy and Heather and Devon and Ellie sitting far removed from the others. Ellie and Devon sported red 'Visitor' passes and the employees gave them a wide berth. The fact that they were sitting with two employees did little to make any of them feel like sitting any closer than was necessary to the visitors.

Heather spotted him first and got up and walked towards him, a slow smile gracing her lips and he felt a moment of absolute lust before his big head overruled his smaller one and screamed 'sister-in-law' at him.

"Hey, beautiful, how's my favorite little sis-in-law?" He gathered her into a hug and she seemed inclined to melt into him more than was proper but he wrote it off to the heat of the moment.

"Holly's been telling me about your latest adventure, big bro. If you need an ear, let me know. I'll drive you out to the farm and you and Hercules can exchange stories. Y'know he's knocked up two fillies already and there's almost a line leaning against that fence waiting their turns at the big stud."

"See, I told ya it would work, oh ye of little faith." He smirked at her and she slapped his chest in mock anger that turned to near panic when he winced and drew back quickly from her.

"You're hurt! She didn't tell me you'd been hurt! What the hell are you doing walking around. You should be in the dispensary resting and getting fixed up. Jesus, David – "

"I just came from there. Nothing major. Just a few stitches that need to be kept away from vicious Franklins, that's all. Let's get back before we attract too much attention, Heather."

"Too late. The word is out. Killer Cain is on the job." She meant it in jest but from the look on his face she knew she'd gone too far.

"Sorry. Big mouth of the family, remember? Really, David, I'm sorry. I didn't think."

He just nodded, still thinking about what she'd said. No one seemed to think less or more of him just because he'd taken out two terrorists. Maybe all this guilt he was carrying around was unnecessary.

Ellie started right in on Chuck without missing a beat and he wished he was still back in the dispensary being probed and prodded. She was relentless and he'd just about had enough of her smart-assed comments about his wife and his marriage.

"Y'know, Chuck, I still can't see you as a spy. I can see Sarah, but not you. You're nice, sweet, caring and wouldn't hurt a fly. What has she done to you? You need to – "

"Holly, Heather, give us a few minutes, will you? Holly, call Casey. He needs to see us ASAP. I'll meet you guys in a few minutes up in Heather's office." He'd seen the hurt in both their eyes and he'd had enough.

"Jesus, Chuck, she's twins! They probably – "

"Doctor Woodcomb, shut your mouth. You've done more damage spouting off here today than Amy's done in two years. Chuck is dead. Get it through your thick Polish skull. I think you and Devon need to sign the non-disclosure paperwork and get your asses on a plane back to California. I'm serious, Doctor, your brother is dead and your mouth might be the death of his replacement. I'm sorry to cut your visit short but the needs of the many, well, you're not as important in the big picture as you seem to think you are. Goodbye, Doctor. We won't meet again anytime soon."

He got up and stormed away from the table before he said anything else. He'd lost his temper with his sister but she'd become such a nasty and unforgiving bitch since he'd left Burbank that he almost didn't recognize her.

Ellie watched her brother walk rapidly across the cafeteria and realized that several people were staring at her with open hostility or disgust. "I need to talk some sense into him, Devon. This is not my brother. My brother is – "

"Dead, Eleanor. Chuck is dead. Let him rest in peace. You just blew a rare opportunity with your big mouth, prejudices and hatred for two women who've become important to him as his wife and her family. Let's go sign out and go home. No more foreign adventures. We're staying home, understand me?"

It was the last time Eleanor Woodcomb ever saw her brother.

Cain Residence  
Hansen's Ferry, MD

Casey and Selena Vargas came over bringing a housewarming gift, probably Selena's idea, and were introduced to Heather who'd come for pizza, beer, and conversation. The house was 'clean' although Casey did a quick sweep of the kitchen and living room before settling in at the old plank kitchen table, grabbing a slice of pizza and a beer.

"So, moron, OUCH, damn it Selena, he _is _a moron. So tell us about Africa." He rubbed his shin and shot his partner a decidedly ugly look. He could call him a moron because he knew him back in the day when he really was a moron.

"It was hot. It was full of nasty people and the sooner we got out of there, the better. Carina Hansen from the DEA joined up with us. Interesting woman. You'd like her, Casey. She has balls."

Casey turned red and started to cough on his pizza and Selena looked at Amy with an unvoiced question.

"Ask him about Prague, Selena. He's _intimately_ familiar with Carina Hansen. Ask him about – "

"Walker, that's enough. I don't drag out – "

"No, Casey, and you'd better not. Walker died in Colorado, remember? Leave it be." There was something in his voice that made Casey's hackles rise and he was just about to tear into him when Heather innocently asked Selena if she was married to Casey like Amy was to David and if it was 'all for the cover' or real, like her sister's was?

Now it was Selena's turn to sputter and blush and start to speak several times but Amy shot Heather a look of gratitude and the rest of the evening went by rapidly without further danger of Casey trying to kill her husband.

Heather left first, claiming an early morning breakfast meeting and Casey and Vargas left shortly thereafter leaving the two alone for the first time in what seemed like forever.

"David, Heather asked if we were going up to the farm this weekend. I told her it was up to you and if you felt well enough for the trip, maybe. Personally, I think you'd prefer staying here and playing with your wife, right? Right?"

"Oh, I don't know. I'd like to see your folks again and Heather, of course. And Hercules sounds like he could teach me a thing or two about the ladies…" He smirked at her and she leaned over and ran the tip of her tongue around the outside of his ear and giggled when his breath hitched.

"Really? I'll bet," she cooed in his ear as she pulled her top off, "that I can change your mind about that." She reached around and undid her bra and let it slip off her arms and laughed and ran for the bedroom.

He cleaned up their mess and followed her, picking up various pieces of clothing that marked her path. She was just walking out of the bathroom and into the bedroom wearing just a smile and her thong and he flashed back on Brazzaville and the anger and betrayal he'd felt at that moment.

"I'm tired, Amy. I think I'll skip a shower and just go to bed."

Amy felt a moment of shock then disappointment and rejection and then realized what the tableau she'd set and she knew he'd remembered Brazzaville and the mark's hotel room.

She slipped in behind him and tried to wrap her arms around him but he just grumbled something unintelligible and moved away from her.

_'How simple it is for her. How easy she slips from one role to another. How far would she have gone to get the information_?'

He knew the answer and it sickened him. He knew it wasn't the first option or even the tenth. He knew, in his mind, that there hadn't been time to set up the mark properly and the mission was critical.

But it was his wife who was going to make love to a terrorist. It was his wife who was going to let some foul creature touch her and –

He heard a sob from behind him and rolled over and looked at her, her face scrunched up in misery and tears running sideways across her face. Real tears.

"Hey, I'm sorry, Holly. I just – I'm an asshole. I forgot that I wasn't the only one who must be hurting, feeling repulsed and disgusted. I'm sorry. C'mere. I hate feeling like this. I hate some of the things we have to do. I'm sorry I turned my back on you when you needed me."

"I never should have gone. I should have refused. Beckman can't make a married woman betray her vows no matter how high the stakes are. She should have sent someone else or let us do it the way you made it happen. I'm so proud of you and so happy that I'm married to someone like you and not like that pig in the hotel."

They fell asleep minutes later, just holding each other and shutting out the world for a little while.

NSA HQ

General Beckman was looking at a series of traffic camera videos that her people had hacked into when they'd been tasked with investigating the comings and goings from the Bonded Warehouse. The facial recognition software they'd spent a large portion of their discretionary funding to acquire had come up with three hits. Three.

The manager of the department had emailed her and requested her opinion of the video since she knew all the operatives assigned to covert operations by sight. (Beckman's ability to spot people in crowds was legendary and the manager was not going out on such a thin and shaky limb on his own.)

"Him!" She called the operations chief and then, disregarding the time, John Casey. His team was needed in the field immediately.


	30. Chapter 30

Finishing this one shortly. One more chapter and maybe an epilogue. Depends on my mood and your response. My mood is crappy.

For APR

OM

* * *

A Slip of the Tongue  
Chapter 30

Casey took Beckman's call after looking at his clock and groaning. Didn't that woman ever sleep?

He answered, listened, offered no comments except "Yes, ma'am. 0900, your office," and then closed his phone and rolled back over and faced the day.

"Morning, sunshine. That was the General and …"

"Oh, shut up. It's way too early for world-saving, Casey. Doesn't that woman _ever _sleep?" She unfolded herself from the comforter and padded over to the bathroom and a few minutes later walked to the doorway, toothbrush in mouth, and said, "Hey, horndog, coffee. Muy rapido."

"No speaka da Spanglish, woman. Coffee, yeah, but hurry up in there or I'll just use the sink – again!" Once she'd been taking her time primping and getting all nice and girly for her new partner and Casey'd finally used the kitchen sink – much to her dismay.

"You – you Neaderthal! You ignorant jackass. My God, my people sacrificed humans to the gods back in the day and I'm thinking of sending a message to heaven, John – no pissing in the damned sink!"

"Then don't spend two hours doing all that girly crap – you're beautiful as you are without all that war paint on. What did you want me to do, go down to the parking lot and whiz on a tire?"

She bit back her retort when she realized what he said. Okay, she'd been a bitch but still, he could have used an empty water bottle or something. Sometimes he was just so closed off and other times, like when he'd slipped in the comment about how beautiful she was, she could see how hard he was trying to reconnect with people.

* * *

Cain Residence  
Hansen's Ford, MD

Amy Cain answered her husband's cell phone. He was in the shower and when she saw the caller ID she sighed and wrote off another weekend, lost to the whims of the Combine.

"Cain, secure. What is it now, Colonel?"

"Meeting with the General at 0900. Both of you. New intel available on the shipments."

"We'll be there." She hung up abruptly and then went into the kitchen and made coffee. Her plan to sneak into the shower and have her wicked way with David was ruined and that pissed her off.

Feeling domestic and knowing that the human garbage disposal she married would be ravenous and probably want to stop by a fast food outlet and 'graze', she scrambled some eggs, popped pre-cooked bacon into the microwave and toasted two English muffins. Her timing was exquisite as was the kiss she got for her efforts.

"Mmm, after I chow down on this breakfast you've cooked, I'm going to drag you back to bed and chow down on you, you sexy scullery maid."

"Sorry, duty calls, David. '0900 at the General's office'." Her imitation of Casey always made him smile. She loved making him smile and went to great lengths to create moments like this one as often as possible.

Amy found her cell on the charger and called her mother and explained that something had come up at work and that they might not be able to make it for Sunday dinner. She'd call as soon as she knew something definite.

* * *

NSA HQ  
FT Meade, MD

Going to the 'Black Cube' always gave Amy a sense of dread. There was something about the huge building with it's black reflective glass that was foreboding and today was no exception. Being called into the General's office made her feel like she was back in elementary school and was about to be scolded for one of her or Heather's pranks that had backfired on them – again. The 'Franklin Twins' were holy terrors and her mother spent almost as much time sitting in the outer office waiting for the principal as they did.

When the General's aide ushered them in, Amy was startled, almost shocked, by the change in the General. She was wearing casual civilian clothes and literally had let her hair down from the severe bun she normally maintained. The change was incredible. The General looked softer, less threatening, and she could see the pretty girl she used to be when she greeted them with a smile.

"Okay, team, it's Saturday and we all had something else to do but we're stuck here so let's make the best of it. I sent my aide to fetch coffee, juice and pastries and I'll make this as brief as possible."

David's senses were on full alert. Beckman was softening them up for something, he just knew it. He glanced at Casey but could not read the man. He was outwardly calm but Chuck knew him well enough to know that he was nervous.

The General entered some keystrokes into her computer and the large wall monitor came to life and displayed a surveillance tape, first of the arrival of the Seaboard flight and then of the off-loading of two aluminum caskets onto hearses.

"That was at BWI yesterday morning. The hearses were cleared through Customs and traveled directly to a mortuary on the outskirts of Washington. Several 'mourners' arrived shortly thereafter. This is why you're here this morning."

Again she entered a few keystrokes. Images of three men and one woman had been captured and enhanced.

"Facial recognition software has identified the two men but not the woman. She's either new or has had facial…"

"Crap! That's Larkin. I'd recognize that gait and haughty attitude anywhere. You said Larkin was a 'crispy critter' after the Colorado fire."

Chuck stared at Beckman as if daring her to refute his accusations.

"We assumed his body was one of those practically incinerated in the fire – one of those even _you_ couldn't identify."

"What now, General?"

"We've had tails Larkin and the other man but they disappeared in traffic, each in s separate vehicle. Colonel Casey, your team will infiltrate the mortuary and see what you can discover. We'll meet back here when the mission has been accomplished for a debriefing. I want answers."

Amy started to say something but David stepped on her foot and she shut up. There would be time for questions after they got out of the principal's office.

* * *

Infiltration Mission

The minute they were out of the General's office, Amy pulled David into an empty office and slammed the door.

She was seconds away from breaking down and he did the only thing he could think of – he held her and whispered that he would never let anything happen to her and that she could stay behind and monitor communications if she felt uncomfortable with the mission.

"No, David. I'm going. I was just so shocked that he's alive. I want to kill him! Slowly and as painfully as possible. I hate him. He used me and then he cut me, David, he cut me and laughed when I screamed."

He held her tightly, feeling the trembling in her body that was brought on by her rage. He didn't blame her but he knew that she would prove a liability on the mission if she went in and decided to find out what she could about Larkin. Going 'off mission' could get someone killed.

"That's why I want you on the outside so that if he comes back while we're inside doing our thing, you can warn us and then together we'll take him into custody and then, after we're done with him, you can kill him, Amy. That's what you want, right? To hang him from a pipe and slowly cut the skin off him, right? To listen to his moans and spit on him before you cut his throat, right?"

The brutal images she conjured up in response to his words sickened her. She was better than that. She was a professional and she was a moral person. David had brought that into her life and she thanked God he had.

"No, I don't. I'll stay in the van and monitor the net but if he shows up, I want you to kill him if you can. Get what info we need and then kill him. Promise me, David. Give him what I begged for – a quick death."

He held her tighter and nodded, almost unable to speak. A quick death? Not if he had anything to do with it.

* * *

The Mission  
Baumgartner Mortuary and Crematorium

Casey parked the commo van about 50 yards from the target on a side street but with a clear view of the target building. They'd checked zoning maps and had blueprints of the building. The crematorium annex had no blueprints on line with the zoning office.

"Okay. The three of us go in, skip the viewing rooms and head for our designated areas. Vargas takes the office and concentrates on any computers but rifles the files for anything to do with bodies from Africa. Cain takes the embalming areas and I'll hit the crematorium. Five minutes maximum and we rendezvous at the rear of the building in the parking lot. Questions?"

There were none. David gave his wife a quick kiss and was gone, as were the others. Amy performed a commo check and then sat back and monitored the helmet cams of each of the raiders but she concentrated on her husband's.

The first surprise was the lighting. All the interior lights were on while those in the rooms forming the perimeter of the building were out.

Vargas was in the office in a few seconds and Amy could see her efficiently boot the computer and wait for the system to come on-line. Once on-line, she copied the entire hard drive to a series of flash drives and then logged off. She went through the files and pulled some folders and spread the information out across the desk top and transmitted photos from her helmet cam to be analyzed later. She left as quickly as she'd come in and exited the building after killing the mechanical alarm on the fire door.

David had swept the rooms with his helmet cam and then started opening and closing refrigerated cabinets and pulling out each body and checking for cause of death. Ebola would be rather obvious. He finished and then followed Vargas' path to the exit, resetting the manual alarm and the main system alarm before exiting.

Casey's route was longer and he was just entering the building after fussing with the alarm. It was much more sophisticated than the one they'd encountered in the funeral home.

"Casey, Vargas and Cain are in rally positions awaiting your return. Should they maintain station or join you?"

"Follow the plan. Damned alarm was a lot more difficult to breach than the other one."

She watched Casey enter the lobby and put on his night vision goggles. The display turned a sickly green and the monitor quickly adapted for the change. Casey walked into the next office and stopped.

"Cain, you and Vargas join up with me. And be careful. Things are going to get hairy soon enough. I've found something really weird here."

Both David and Selena double-clicked their mikes and hurried to join up with Casey. It was a deviation from the plan.

Both their monitors turned a sickly green but soon changed and Amy could see why Casey wanted his other two team mates – there were several aluminum caskets set up on shelves with hoses running in and out of the ends.

"Cain, what do you make of this?"

"The hose runs from collection bottles up to the pressure equalization nozzle on the base of the end of each coffin. The nozzles are usually opened when the casket is in flight so that pressure is equalized and the body doesn't explode or anything equally nasty. Unless all these bodies have exploded, that nasty reddish liquid dripping into the containers is what's left of the poor suckers inside the coffins. The other hose probably runs water up into the coffin to provide a medium for the virus goop. See how the coffins are propped up with the head higher than the lower end? Gravity moves the slurry downwards and it exits."

Casey's heart rate was climbing as was Vargas' but David's was running about normal and she wondered what he was doing that the others weren't.

"Casey, you and Vargas get out. I'm going to pry open one of these aluminum caskets and see what's inside."

"Are you crazy? That's Ebola! We're all leaving and we'll be back with the proper hazmat equipment. I'd rather someone from USAMRIID did it. They're equipped for this crap. Let's get out of here."

"Casey, we can't just leave without knowing. If we're right, we can scoop up all the players at one time. If we tip our hand, the damned bastards get away and start over someplace else. No. I'm going to find some way to collect some of this dripping crap and take it back for analysis. You know I'm right. You two rejoin the van and I'll be along directly."

"Cain, I'm ordering you to – "

"David, follow the colonel's orders. Do not approach any hazmat areas. It's a breach of protocols and you might get infected."

Chuck ignored his wife's pleading and walked over to a refrigerator and opened it and found what they were looking for. He carefully removed a sealed vial of a reddish liquid and held it carefully in his gloved hands. "Found it. Let's beat feet, people, but for God's sake, don't bump my arm!"

* * *

NSA HQ  
Beckman's office  
6am

Beckman started the briefing with a brief rant at David Cain. It was the same rant he heard from Casey and later, in private, from his wife.

"Agent Cain, that was a foolish thing you did. You violated protocol and ignored your team leader's orders. However, our lab rushed your sample to the USAMRIID and they have confirmed _Ebola Zaire._"

She paused to let it sink in. Their problem had grown immensely.

Casey and David had discussed this after the ass-chewing and they both agreed that satellite and human surveillance was necessary on anyone entering or leaving the crematorium building. Amy's review of the funeral home documents showed nothing referring to Africa or bodies coming in from the Customs Service.

"General, we recommend that the team set up surveillance on the crematorium and back up teams follow any employees to their destinations. Maybe we'll luck out and find out where they're moving the stuff to and how they're planning on dispersing it."

"And maybe we'll be able to pick up Larkin and sweat some truth out of him. He's involved in this somehow."

"Report back hourly by secure phone. Backup teams will be in place within the hour. I want electronic eyes on that crematorium as soon as possible and we'll ID everyone who comes and goes and put them under surveillance also."

* * *

Unknown location  
Warehouse

"Are the truck bombs ready? We strike at noon tomorrow and the proof of our weapon will increase the price at the auction astronomically."

"Our targets are the USAMRIID facility, the NSA facility, CIA Headquarters in Langley, the Air Traffic Control Center, the Hoover building and Union Station. We'll detonate them all remotely at precisely noon. The fools will evacuate the city and we'll have carriers spreading our little friends throughout the nation within hours."


	31. Chapter 31

A Slip of the Tongue

This was supposed to be the final chapter but I've got more, so one more. There MAY be an epilogue assuming I can't wrap it up and still access the Armadilloi's account.

I'm not sure I'll be able to post this and that will piss me off even more than I already am.

OM

* * *

Chapter 31

It was Amy who spotted the anomaly in the comings and goings of various people from the mortuary. She'd been reviewing tapes for hours it seemed and she was taking a sip of much needed coffee when it hit her.

Gloves. Some of them were wearing gloves. Surgical type gloves, not 'keep your hands warm' gloves.

Four men had emerged from the crematorium carrying brown cardboard cartons that everyone thought were the 'remains' of the dead. They'd put tails on all four but had lost them each of them when they entered underground parking garages, used public transportation and changed frequently, losing their tails.

All but one.

She could never see his face but he had placed the carton in the trunk of his car and so she had sent a text to David and Casey with the make and model. They were the final team on stakeout.

Her last text was simple: _Subject heading N on Wilson. Wearing gloves. Carton in trunk. Be careful._

"Got him!" Casey pulled out into traffic being careful to keep several car lengths behind the subject. He turned north back towards the airport and Casey cursed when a brown UPS truck pulled out in front of them, masking their subject vehicle.

"Cain, send Amy a text to pick up traffic cams along Wilson. We need to know if he turns off."

He sent a text and got a confirmation: _Still N on Wilson_

The UPS truck stopped and the driver hopped out to make a delivery. Casey cursed and pulled his big pig out into on-coming traffic and pulled around the truck and back into the proper lane.

"I hate those idiots who just stop to deliver a package. Still going north?" He couldn't spot their subject's vehicle in the traffic ahead. Too many cars had entered from side streets.

"Yeah. Wait! Amy says he parked and left the vehicle. She couldn't see if he took the carton from the trunk." Gotta love traffic cams.

They drove another block before finding the car. Casey told Chuck to 'get out and follow him' while he found a parking place.

Chuck could see Bryce about 30 yards ahead, walking along the crowded sidewalk like he had all the time in the world. The lunch crowd was leaving offices and the sidewalk was very congested.

He glanced at his watch. 11:20. David reached below his suit coat and unsnapped the safety strap from his holster. 20 yards. 10 yards. Then 5 and finally only a few feet separated them.

"You with the box – Federal Agent! Stop and raise your hands. I will shoot you if I have to."

He knew he couldn't fire his weapon for two reasons: he might hit a pedestrian or worse, he might hit the carton and release it's deadly contents.

Bryce stopped and slowly turned, a cruel smile on his face. "Well, well, well. Look at the big bad NSA agent with his shield and big-boy pistol. You look – good, Chuck. How've you been?"

"Lower the carton slowly and carefully and place it on the cement and step back. I mean it, Bryce. I'll kill you for all the right reasons starting with Stanford and then for what you did to Sarah Walker."

It was the smirk that did it. That damned smirk he had on his face every time he'd bested Chuck. He hated that smirk. He stepped forward and Bryce tossed the cardboard carton to him and Chuck had to fumble to catch it and while he did, a spring blade knife appeared from Larkin's coat sleeve and he buried it low in Chuck's stomach.

"I'll just take the carton back. You can keep the knife, Chuck. A word of advice – don't take the subway, Chuckie-boy. The crowds are a killer at noon."

He could only watch as Bryce gave him that damned smirk. He couldn't breathe or even stop himself from falling to his knees, both hands clutching his stomach. First aid instructions flashed through his mind – 'Do not attempt to remove a knife from a wound. It will only make any bleeding worse'. He looked down and was sorry he did.

He watched Bryce go down steps to the Metro station a few yards ahead and suddenly he knew just what was going to happen. This particular spur carried all the rush hour traffic as well as served as a feeder to the transportation hubs in DC.

He was going to release the virus into the metro station. He hauled himself to his feet and started walking towards the metro. He forced down a scream as he almost fell down the tiled stairs but heard the screams of others as they saw a bleeding man waving a gun around telling them to get out of the station.

Larkin stopped and noticed that people were beginning to run, those closest to the stairs seemed to surge up them while those further away just followed the panicky mob of what used to be innocent commuters. Lemmings.

* * *

Metro Station

Everyone gave David a wide berth as he stumbled down the stairs. He could see people dialing 911 and started to laugh but it hurt too much. Gaining the metro platform, David saw Larkin's form enter a maintenance door at the far end.

His cell phone started ringing and he saw it was Casey and answered. "Cain, where the hell are you? God – "

"Larkin's in the Metro. He's in maintenance. Aerosol agent in the Metro. It has to be. He told me 'avoid the metro at noon. It was a killer'. Shut down the Metro and evacuate the stations. I'm going after Larkin."

If Casey said anything in response, David didn't hear him. He was too busy cursing because the door had an electronic keypad lock. '_I do not have time for this shit'_, he thought as he reversed his pistol and bashed the cover off the keypad. _'Buy More experience to the rescue!' _David fumbled with the mechanism and finally just crossed wires until he heard the lock disengage.

He stepped in and saw Bryce Larkin squatting down and linking a container to a water line.

"Hey, Chuck. Just let me finish up here and I'll be right with you."

"Stop or I'll shoot, Larkin. I mean it."

"No you don't. You're one of the Good Guys and everyone knows the Good Guys never shoot a man in the ba – "

BANG

He fired but he hit him low in the back, severing his spinal cord and dropping him screaming into a little heap of Larkiness.

"Y-you _shot_ me!" David ignored Larkin and followed the line he'd attached the cylinder to all the way to its fitting joining the main water line that fed the sprinkler system. He shambled over and grabbed the large iron wheel and turned it until it shut down the flow to the entire system. Checkmate.

Bryce had flopped over on his back and each breath was a whimper and David had no sympathy for him. The cylinder was leaking from being dropped and David's heart sank. If he didn't bleed to death, he'd die of Ebola Zaire. Some choice.

There were natural gas lines terminating in water heaters for the restrooms and David backed out of the room and fired once, hitting the line. The hissing and whistling of natural gas filled his ears and the room. He'd have to wait a while until the room filled with gas and then he'd fire again at the cast iron piping and the spark would create a fireball that would incinerate the virus and Larkin. Double the pleasure, double the fun.

After what seemed like an eternity, he opened the door and stepped out closing it but leaving it open just enough to admit the muzzle of his pistol and he fired.

* * *

It was dark. David didn't remember how he got into the metro tunnel. He looked up at the concrete ceiling. It didn't look back. He tried to get comfortable but it was hard to do. He wasn't afraid anymore. He almost sighed with relief when he sensed that the 'long night' was finally ending. It didn't matter one bit that when the sun rose he wouldn't see it. It would still rise and warm the earth and those he loved.

* * *

NSA HQ

Noon

Amy Cain was pacing the lobby waiting for word from Casey on their pursuit of Larkin. Her sister walked over to her and handed her a cup of coffee.

"No word yet?" Heather knew what was happening. As a senior administrator, she'd been briefed along with others on the mission in progress. Each had been assigned a task in support of the mission and the teams involved.

"No, damn it. The last word was that Larkin was heading down into the Metro and David was in hot pursuit. That's the last I've heard and that was 40 minutes ago. Casey said – " She never finished the sentence.

A Fed-Ex Ground panel truck pulled up after passing through security and stopped at the security barriers that had been erected. The driver did something and the truck exploded, shattering the front of the Glass Cube and turning glazing into shrapnel.

* * *

4 Days Later  
Baltimore General

"I want to see my husband! Casey, why can't I see him? They won't even let me speak to him on the phone!"

Amy was on pain killers and her already-slurred speech was difficult to understand. Her mother and father had been allowed to visit and they'd told her about the death of her sister. The twins had been trapped in the wreckage for hours and when rescuers found them, Holly had been unconscious and Heather was dead, probably killed instantaneously.

No one would tell her about her husband. It was like he didn't exist.

"John, if he's dead, I have a right to know. Tell me the truth, damn you. He's my husband. I want to see him, talk with him."

"You can't. He's in isolation. He was hurt and then exposed to the virus. He's being treated and until he's past the danger period, no one is allowed to see him. He can't talk anyway, Amy. They're keeping him sedated because of his injury. He's getting the best care possible and I wouldn't lie to you about something like that."

"What's the incubation period of Ebola? It's been three days! Don't they know anything?"

"No. Now, crawl back into bed and get better. I promise that the minute he can have visitors I'll take you. Y'know, you might want to talk to Beckman about another job. David's going to staff and he'll need a partner in crime to keep him on the straight and narrow. No more adventures but you two could use a dose of normal, right?"

* * *

4 Months Later

"Doc, I think I'm going crazy."

"Well, Agent Cain, a lot of us thought you were nuts after some of the things you've done but we were mostly wrong. Now, what is it this time?"

It was the 12th visit of an unending mandatory therapy that David used mostly to lose his temper about work, boredom, physical problems and an emotional distance that he'd seemed to have established between him and his wife.

"_This time?_" He got up to go but Marian stopped him with a word.

"Chuck!" He stopped and hung his head. He hated being reminded of all he'd lost and his therapist/shrink, Marian, always did it to get his attention.

"Sit, please. That was thoughtless of me. You've been coming here for weeks now and I think you're making progress. It can't be easy having all that data stuffed into your head, then be ripped from all you know and love, and then find it again only to lose it to the job. Talk to me, David. How are things going between you and your wife."

"You'll just tell me it's my imagination but I tell you…never mind. Let's talk about my adaptation to my new job, okay?"

"No. I want to hear what you're afraid of, David. Talk to me. Nothing leaves this room, you know that."

"My wife, she's, she's different. Little things. Something happened to her or, shit, or it's not her at all. She takes off her necklace to bathe, she has nightmares and refuses to talk about them but she talks in her sleep. She talks in the third person in her sleep. She's forgotten little things. She _feels_ different. She _tastes_ different. Her teeth are different."

"Well, there was facial trauma – "

"No. I mean her teeth aren't perfect. Sarah Walker had a beautiful smile but it was all cosmetic. Holly has a beautiful smile and her teeth, they're real. Imperfect. See what I mean?" She didn't but she made a note to explore it later.

"How's the sex life?"

"Incredible. Experimental. Exhausting. No complaints except that she won't kiss me. She says it's because her lips are still numb after the last surgery. When I tell her I love her, she doesn't respond. It's like she's…tolerating me on a personal level. I just don't think she loves me because - she's not _her_."

"David, you both have been through tremendous physical and emotional traumas and – "

"She always told me she loved me, always. She'd slip a note in my pocket or write some silly poem about us and leave it on the refrigerator door, or just wake me up in the middle of the night to tell me she loved me. That doesn't happen anymore."

"Have you talked to her about it?"

"No. I just can't say, _'Holly, don't you love me anymore?'_ She's a trained agent. She once told me – never mind. Look, this isn't doing me any good and I'm sure you have patients who are in dire need of your therapies. I'm not coming back. I'll figure out what's wrong with me and I'll fix it. It's my fault. I've done something wrong. I just don't know what it is yet."

* * *

Dr. Harper flipped through her file and found a number and dialed it. '_Be there. Answer the damned phone!'_

"Hello, Dr. Harper. Is anything wrong?"

"Yeah, you might say that. Your husband's on the verge of an emotional collapse and he's – he's desperate. Can you come in, now, today?"

"On my way."

* * *

NSA HQ  
FT Meade, MD

She never used the front entrance anymore. She left through a smaller lobby and made her way out to her car and called David while walking through the parking lot.

"Hey, sweetie, I've got to run into DC for a meeting. Can we do something together tonight? Maybe go out to dinner or a movie."

"I was thinking we might drive up and surprise your folks. It's Friday night and maybe we could spend the weekend and relax."

"Okay. I'll call Mom and make sure they have nothing planned. I'd like that, David. See you later."

* * *

Trauma Therapy Center

"Agent Cain, thank you for coming so quickly. I wasn't sure you'd come but I'm glad you did."

"Why would you think I wouldn't come? He's my husband and I worry about him constantly. I came so close to losing him."

Marian sighed and gestured for her visitor to take a seat on the couch. "I'm going to violate about 4 laws as well as the privacy and confidence of a patient. I want you to understand that I don't do this lightly. I'll report it as a violation to the Ethics Committee but I want you to see something."

That got her attention. This must be serious. She mentioned 'emotional collapse'. How serious was it if she were willing to violate her Canon of Ethics?

"I record all sessions for historical and diagnostic purposes. I want you to see this session from 8 weeks ago. It's short and I've edited out the parts not relevant to why I called you."

"_Agent Cain, this is your fourth session. It would be helpful if you said something."_

"_I'm only here because it's required by my job. You know, Agent goes nuts, burns traitor to death, people don't want to be wondering when I'll lose it next."_

"_You were injured, your judgment was impaired due to blood loss. As for the rest, it was necessary for the mission. You saved a lot of lives, David."_

"_Yeah. But I lost someone very dear to me, my wife's twin sister, Heather. We should have known about the bomb plot. We could have saved her."_

"_It wasn't your mission to investigate that area. Your mission was to track down the distribution operation, and you succeeded."_

Marian froze the playback and turned to Holly. "Okay. Now I'm going to playback this morning's session. It's short because he walked out."

After watching the short session, Holly began to cry. Dr. Harper waited. There was nothing to do but hand her a box of tissues and wait it out.


End file.
